And All The King's Men
by Solo Ensemble
Summary: A Regency-era piece. Jason Morgan is part of a secret organization that serves the interests of the Crown, and his newest assignment is to infiltrate the home of Lord Robert Scorpio. The one thing he didn't plan on, however, is Robert's daughter Elizabeth
1. And All The King's Men

**And All the King's Men**

_London, England, 1824…_

"Have you found anything since last we spoke?"

Richard SanMarco looked up from the telegrams he'd been poring over. An expert code-breaker, he was the one they always sent all intercepted messages to, no matter how seemingly innocuous, for further inspection.

"Yes and no."

Jason arched a brow and swept his cloak to the side, seating himself on the rickety wooden bench at their favorite, very exclusive club. Jake's was named after its founder, the leader of the secret British agency that served the crown and protected England's best interests.

"I like the first part of that answer."

Ritchie sighed and set the papers down, fanning them out in front of Jason. "I say yes because these messages from the French are most definitely coded to plan an attack on the royal war ship stationed right off the coast of India. I say no because they are addressed to Marquis Lucas Spencer the Second."

"One of the British agents currently in the employ of the War Office," Jason supplied grimly.

His friend nodded. "Yes. So either Lucky is already on the case and planning to thwart all French plans for attack, or he's secretly working with them. I have no way of knowing for sure, even if we do manage to purloin copies of any additional incoming telegrams."

Jason scrubbed a hand over his face and nodded his quick salutations to Jonathan O'Brien, the Irish Earl of Harborview that worked alongside him to protect England from her corrupt lords and nobles, and those who wished her harm. 

"We'll have to do better than this, Ritchie. There's no telling what Lucky's up to, especially if he's already collaborating with the French."

"Is this about the Spencer boy?" Gianni Zacchara, the only Italian in the room and a Count to boot, snorted to himself as he swung one breech-clad leg across the seat of his chair and straddled it backward. "You'd think he'd have learned something from his father's mistake. Weren't you the one that exposed Lucas's double-dealings?"

Jason nodded, gratefully accepting the scotch that Gianni brought with him. Say what you wanted about the Italians, but they knew their liquor and always had the best of it. The particular brand in his hand was almost as old as he was. "Yes, my first assignment when I joined the Bureau. The senior Marquis committed suicide once he was found out, but the family pretended he had been killed in a carriage accident. We let them, once Lucky had paid the reparations to wash away his father's guilt."

"All's I know is, the son is smarter than the father," the Count warned, scooting his chair to the side when his younger cousin Damien Spinelli, a mere Mister among their noble ranks, joined them at their table. "The most Luke did was attempt to embezzle the Crown at the height of his power as one of the members of Parliament. If Lucky is already collaborating with the French, he's got to be stopped immediately and made to pay for his high treason."

"I've been getting word that the French are planning to take the Curry Post," Spinelli felt compelled to add when the conversation drifted off. That was the nickname for one of the most valuable Indian port cities that was the current property of the Crown. "If it is indeed true, then Lucky Spencer most likely has a hand in it. According to the espionage network under my supervision, the French have been gloating to the Portuguese about an English official on the take. It may very well be the young Marquis."

"There's no way to know for sure," Jason growled, slamming his palm on the table. "If it is Lucky, he's disguised himself well by joining the War Office and pretending to serve England's interests through the art of espionage. Corrupt officials are easy to find; double agents are not. We've never had much luck with this sort of thing in the past."

"And that has cost England dearly," Ritchie was quick to remind him. "It all adds up, Jason. We are operating on strong suspicion that the culprit is indeed our very own Marquis of Rouge-Cadillac. If we can find the proof, we can bring him down and protect the Crown's investments overseas!"

Jason's brow furrowed as he considered the situation from every possible angle. It would be a dangerous mission: the Spencer family's reputation and honor had already been tainted by treasonous activities, and if they had reverted to old habits they would be doubly careful to cover their tracks. And that would make them doubly ruthless. If they were going to have any chance of catching Lucky Spencer in the act of conspiring with the French dogs, they'd have to go about it from the inside.

"Do we have a plan?"

Gianni nodded. "Spinelli has an idea."

"Well?"

The young man set down his scotch and spread his hands out on the rough wooden table as if visually laying out his battle plans. "The best way to do this is to obtain inside information on Lucky Spencer. If he is indeed a double agent with the War Office, the best way to know that is _through _the inner workings of the War Office."

"Contacts – do we have any?"

Their organization was extremely exclusive – so exclusive that most people doubted they existed – and they paid the price for that by having very few men in official positions that could help them when they needed it.

"No, but we can make one."

Jason's brows lifted. "How? Who?"

"Lord Robert Scorpio," Spinelli explained. "You remember him as an old friend of your family's. He has been with the War Office for almost thirty years now and operates under the codename Pegasus. He is the man who will help you."

"Does he know of the situation with Lucky?"

Gianni shook his head. "No, but he is one of very few men in the War Office that has been given classified information regarding the precarious state of affairs at the Curry Post. He knows that the French will make a move on it and he's agreed to go undercover there and thwart the attack, effective almost immediately."

Jason wasn't sure he understood. "If Robert will be in India, how will he be of use to us _here_?"

"He won't," Spinelli agreed, "but if his walls could talk, I'm sure they'd have quite a few tales to tell."

The plan was beginning to take shape in his mind. "I infiltrate Scorpio Manor and pose as Robert in correspondence to obtain the information we need on Lucky."

Gianni and Spinelli exchanged glances. "Well…almost. You've got the main idea right, but there's one thing you might not be aware of."

"That being?"

"You won't be alone in the manor when you infiltrate it."

"Servants and housekeepers have never deterred me in the past. I'm more than used to being discreet when I'm on assign-"

"Nor will your infiltration consist of one visit."

"If I have to make multiple visits, I'm sure I can accommodate-"

"Jason, you don't understand," Gianni sighed, waving at him to just sit still and listen. "I know you've worked with the Bureau for far longer than I have, and believe me, it causes me great consternation to have to advise you in this manner, but…"

"You're not going to be playing your spy role first," Spinelli cut in. "I know your _modus operandi_. You go in as an officer of the Bureau of British Security, and only employ your alibi if you run the risk of being caught. This time, your alibi will overshadow your identity as an officer of the Bureau."

Already he didn't like this. "Meaning?"

Gianni and Spinelli exchanged glances as Ritchie looked on, clearly amused. "Well…"

If they didn't tell him what the devil they were talking about in the next five minutes, by Lud, he'd shoot them both, the insufferable wet-behind-the-ears pups that they were. 

Spinelli cleared his throat gruffly. "Er, you won't be entirely alone in the house, Jason."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "So you've said."

"And even though you know Robert fairly well from his days of friendship with your father, he'd never trust you to be in his house while he was not in attendance."

The green boys, they weren't telling him anything he didn't already know. "Is there a point?"

They both blinked when he snapped at them. "Uh…"

Jason rolled his eyes. God damn, if the Bureau didn't need every last man it had…

"Robert has a daughter," Spinelli blurted out, when it became clear that Jason was perilously close to violence. "He has a daughter and she is unwed, so she lives with him at Scorpio Manor."

He sat back in his seat and thought. "A daughter?"

Gianni nodded hesitantly. "Yes, Jason. He has a daughter of one and twenty named Elizabeth. You might remember her."

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth," he murmured, and then surprised all the men there by pulling a face as if he were a young boy again. "Oh, God, I remember her now. Impudent little chit. Used to steal my peppermints."

Spinelli, Ritchie, and Gianni all stared at him. Even Mitchell Coleman, the proprietor of Jake's who knew more than well enough to keep his mouth shut about the goings-on there, stopped polishing his barware and stared at Jason as if he'd sprouted a second head.

He gruffly cleared his throat and took a big gulp of his scotch, flicking his wrist at Gianni. "Go on."

Something akin to amusement – oh, it better not have been amusement – glittered in Gianni's dark brown eyes, but he forged on regardless. "Elizabeth lives with him in the house still. She's a smart girl, from what I hear, but I have reason to believe that she is not aware of her father's position in the War Office."

"She is not aware of it, no," Spinelli confirmed with a nod.

"She cannot manage the estate in his absence, so Robert is likely to ask the War Office to supply an accountant to manage his finances and his investments and make sure that his daughter is cared for."

"But he won't need to do that if you offer your services first," Spinelli pointed out. "Robert knows you, Jason. He knows your London persona. He already admires you for breaking away from your father when he hatched that scheme to sway the election results in Parliament. He also knows that you're very skilled when it comes to investments, and he'll consider himself lucky to have you managing his estates and enhancing his holdings."

Jason was beginning to nod. "Yes, that would be perfect. Being in charge of Robert's finances would allow me to access other personal information that can be used to discover what Lucky's actually up to and to what extent he's conspiring with the enemies of the Crown."

"There is still the matter of the girl," Ritchie reminded him, his glittering eyes belying his somber tone. "Do tell us more about her, Gianni."

The Italian Count bit his lip and braved a glance at Jason. "Well, it's like this, Jason. Robert won't hire you on as only the caretaker of his estate and finances. He's of the mind that his daughter hung the moon, and whoever takes care of his estate must also have her best interests at heart."

Jason's eyes widened as Ritchie hid a smirk. "…What are you saying?"

"Remember how we said that your alibi would have to overshadow your actual identity as an agent?" Spinelli gulped, feeling extremely grateful that he and Jason were separated by the width of the table.

"In this case, your alibi would be that of…baby-sitter."


	2. Candied Fennel & French Porn

**Candied Fennel and French Porn**

_London, England, 1824..._

"Jason, it's so good to see you."

Jason did his best to remember the famous Quartermaine charm and managed a fairly bright grin as he shook Robert Scorpio's hand. He had known Robert as a boy, back when Robert and Alan Quartermaine, the Viscount of Charles Porte, had been good friends. But then they had a falling out when Alan became more focused on personal pride, power and wealth and Robert remained faithful to the Crown and to the Prince Regent.

"You as well, my Lord."

"Please do not address me with my title," he responded affably. "I knew you when you were a little boy in school, practicing your flicks, after all. You may call me Robert."

He dipped his head obligingly. "Yes, of course."

"I cannot help but marvel at your sense of timing," the older man beamed. "Very fortuitous – and fortunate."

"I heard that you were leaving England for a few months and needed someone to manage your estates," Jason replied honestly. "I only thought that I could be of service."

Robert nodded nonchalantly, the movement practiced and smooth. "Yes, it turns out that some of my investments in Calcutta are at risk, and I'm needed there to smooth things over. It's nothing too serious, fortunately, but it is something I need to take care of in person."

Jason tried not to smile at the fluent lie. "Of course."

"And I'm very much relieved to be leaving my estate and my staff in your hands," he added sincerely. "I remember you as a boy, Jason. You were quick as a whip and honest to a fault. And you always did what you thought was right; that was what impressed me most. I'm sure your service now will prove invaluable."

"Thank you," he nodded, bowing his head slightly. "I will take very good care of your holdings."

"Be sure you do," Robert sighed, crossing his arms and wrinkling his custom tailored coat. "I've been hearing disturbing news around London."

Jason perked up at that. "Meaning?"

"You will keep this to yourself," Robert advised him, his gray eyes flashing sternly. "Not because I tell you to, but because you know what's good for you. Wealthy landowners around London are being targeted. Their houses are being broken into, but nothing of value is ever stolen."

"What does the robber take?"

Robert stopped, stared at him, and managed a small smile. "Just the financial records. The book of accounts. Any pertinent ledgers. And the funny thing is, they are all returned usually within a fortnight."

Jason pretended to mull it over. "I've heard of this before through a friend that was similarly robbed, but I can't think of any logical explanation. At least all the records are restored to the owners."

"It's a damned nuisance, and quite illegal," Robert corrected. "The hoodlum responsible is terrorizing the Crown's most loyal subjects."

"If I remember correctly, several of those same men that were robbed were later revealed to be working against the Prince Regent and accepting bribes to do so," Jason heard himself reply stiffly. "Perhaps the hoodlum responsible serves the Crown instead."

Robert's lips thinned, and if Jason wasn't imagining it, they curved into a smile.

"That is the bloodiest dumbest thing I've ever heard."

Jason's jaw went slack, but Robert was already on to other things.

"But no matter," he exclaimed jovially, clapping Jason on the back and leading him into the rest of the house. "For the next few months, my home is your home. You will have full control over my staff and my holdings. You will manage my finances and make sure that my staff is paid on time. I've taken a look at your investment records, too, Jason, and I find them very impressive. Because of this, I will also authorize you to trade on my behalf, so long as you leave a comfortable margin and do not gamble with it."

"I've never been one to gamble – with money," he replied, effectively hiding the tail end of a smirk.

Robert didn't notice. "Very good then. There is, of course, one more small matter. You will also be appointed temporary guardian to my daughter, Elizabeth. You remember her, yes? I believe she stole your peppermints as a child."

"I couldn't recall," Jason replied lightly.

The older man let out a laugh. "Of course not. Anyway, my daughter is upstairs. She doesn't require much, but I am in the habit of giving her weekly pin money. She'll usually spend it on hats and gloves and nuts and ribbons – typical womanly behavior – but I like for her to have it nonetheless."

"Of course," Jason nodded. "I will make sure Miss Scorpio is taken care of."

"Oh, she'll hate you for calling her that," Robert sighed. "No, no, that won't do at all. It's Elizabeth or it's nothing."

Jason's eyes bugged. As the second son of a Viscount – the disowned second son of a Viscount – he had never been that informal with a woman of excellent breeding. "But, my Lord-"

"Robert," he reminded him. "Now, then, just remember to call her Elizabeth and all shall be well. But there is one more thing I feel I should warn you of."

He motioned Jason closer and Jason, feeling very odd indeed, leaned in. "Elizabeth is not your typical young woman, Jason. It's no secret among the _ton _that I haven't raised her conventionally after her mother, God rest her, passed away. She's liable to surprise you with some of her behavior."

Jason nodded awkwardly. "I'll remember not to be surprised, then."

Robert winced. "I'm afraid it's not so simple. Perhaps – yes, I think the two of you should meet again before I leave. It's been a while since you've seen her last, yes? Well, no matter. I shall fetch her immediately."

"Lord Scorpio?"

Robert and Jason turned toward the hallway leading in from the back door to see one of the stable boys marching into the house, dragging someone along behind him.

"Logan? What is it?"

"My Lord, I found her scaling the side of the house again," the young man sighed, apologetically ushering Elizabeth forward. She appeared in too good spirits to take it personally and simply gave him a beaming smile before turning to her father.

"Hullo, Father! You'll never _guess _where I've been."

Robert pinched the bridge of his nose as Jason gawked at them. "Oh, dear."

"Well?" the little imp asked, hopping up and down on her toes. "Aren't you?"

"Aren't I what?" her father asked wearily. "Darling, you'll have to fill me in on these things."

"Guess, of course!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Aren't you going to guess?"

He perused her outfit just as Jason did, but thankfully for everyone concerned, Robert's gaze wasn't nearly as licentious as the younger man's. 

Jason, much to his dismay, found that he couldn't tear his eyes off the horrid little brat that annoyed him to no end as a boy. Elizabeth Scorpio had matured into a beautiful, graceful, amply curved young woman with the disarming grin of a mischievous puck, and a balcony one could read Shakespeare off of.

Her garments were a similar source of both horror and awe for him. Since his society days, Jason was used to seeing women in long, sweeping dresses that exposed a fair amount of cleavage. (God, how he loved current women's fashions.) Elizabeth, however, wore no such dress. The little sprite had the nerve to walk around in a pair of stylish men's leather boots – most likely made for a boy, because her feet were still quite dainty, he imagined, although he really had no business imagining her feet. She wore a soft-looking, wrinkled white linen shirt that she had tucked into her black – Oh, dear God, those were breeches.

Jason took a step back, blinking in surprise. She was wearing breeches!

They fit her superbly, and revealed a whole slew of things Jason hadn't wanted to know. He hadn't wanted to know that she had a lush, entirely womanly figure now instead of the stick-thin frame of a six-year-old girl. He hadn't wanted to know that her hips swished just so when she walked, and he hadn't wanted to see the soft, entirely feminine belly those snug pants showed off. He hadn't wanted to know any of those things, but thanks to her choice of wardrobe, he did.

And he had a feeling he'd never be able to get this image out of his mind. 

Robert gave him a beleaguered look, the sort shared between fallen comrades, and turned back to his daughter. "Judging by the stains on your breeches, I'm going to say…you were at the pool halls again."

Jason was sure he heard wrong. _Again?_

"No," she grinned, tossing her hair out of her face. It was then that Jason saw that she'd pulled her long, dark chestnut tresses back into a queue low against her neck, and had then tucked it under her casual and rumpled waistcoat. "No, no, that's no fun anymore after all the men figured out I was hussling them."

Jason felt that maybe he'd better sit down.

"No, I went to the docks," Elizabeth continued happily, not noticing the way Jason's features darkened. "Your ship's come in, Father, along with Viscount Quartermaine's and Earl O'Brien's, and it was ever so much fun to help the men unload the cargo!"

The cords in Jason's neck bulged. "You were on the docks? By yourself? _Lifting cargo?_"

The little chit seemed finally to notice his presence and gave him an arch look. "And just who do you think you are?"

Robert let out another sigh. It seemed that was all he was good for in her presence. "Elizabeth…"

"I asked a simple question," she replied innocently, batting those impossibly long lashes of hers. Dear Lord, they rested on her cheeks like a carpet when she did that.

"He thinks he's Jason Morgan – er, he _is _Jason Morgan," Robert corrected, shooting Jason an apologetic look. "You might remember him from your childhood."

Jason waited as Elizabeth stared at him. "Jason Morgan…Jason Morgan."

Finally, after a most insulting silence, she shook her head. "No, I can't say the name is familiar."

His eyes narrowed and Jason, who had exercised proper control and poise all his life and practically turned it into an art form, wanted to throttle her right then and there. "Think harder."

"But I'll get wrinkles," she replied flippantly, treating him to just enough of a smile that he knew she was funning him.

Her father let out a little chuckle. "I believe you stole his peppermints, dear heart."

Elizabeth's mouth fell into a charming "o," making her look charmingly like a rather charming owl. Jason gritted his teeth. How perfectly charming.

"I assure you, I did no such thing!" she squawked, fanning her hand out over her chest as Jason did his best not to stare at it. "And I think it's perfectly horrid for Mister Morgan, whoever he is, to come about hurling these ludicrous accusations."

Just when he was about to break in and set the little gel straight, she disarmed him by shooting him a playful wink. "Besides, as I recall it, Mister Morgan was such a perfect gentleman as a boy that he willingly _gave _me his peppermints."

It was the last thing he expected to do at the moment, and perhaps that was why it felt so right: Jason laughed. He just stood there and laughed with her.

"Elizabeth, do not change the subject," Robert interrupted. "What on earth possessed you to go to the docks this early in the morning?"

"Your ship came in," she repeated. "Didn't you hear me? And I sent away for a few things. Look!"

She pulled a small velvet satchel out from under her coat and untied it from her breeches. "Candy-coated fennel seeds, all the way from India. I vow I could eat these until I died."

Jason eyed her suspiciously, his amusement forgotten. "What else did you send away for?"

Elizabeth blinked. "What?"

"You said you sent away for a few things – what else?"

"Er, spices," she replied. "Curry powder and turmeric, oh, and Father, crushed red pepper the color of garnets! I shall turn them over to Cook right away. That's all, I believe, thank you very much," she added for Jason's benefit.

Logan let out a sigh – really, was that _all _that the men around her could suffer themselves to do? – and held up a book. "I believe she had this on her person as well."

"Traitor," Elizabeth grumbled.

"My most humble apologies," Logan shrugged. "But it's your father that pays me, my Lady."

Jason plucked the book from his hand. "What is this? _Gargantua and Pentagruel_? Abhorrent filth! Sensationalist French literature! Don't you know we're at _war_?"

"Yes, but _I'm _not at war with Rabelais," she snipped, snatching at the book. "You give that back. It's full of big words you wouldn't understand, anyway. And just who do you think you are? You, Mister Morgan, are not in charge of me."

"Actually…" Robert bit back a smirk, looking a little too pleased with the turn of events for Jason's liking. "For the next few months, he is."

Elizabeth stared at him. Hard. "Father?"

"I'm needed in Calcutta for a little while, love," he explained. "And in that time, Jason will manage my properties."

"And that includes me?" she asked imperiously, planting both hands on her all-too-visible hips.

Her father winced. "Well, I wouldn't put it as indelicately as that, but…"

Jason felt an odd smile begin to form. "Yes. It does."


	3. A Bump In The Night

**A Bump In The Night**

_London, England, 1824…_

"How do you know an Italian Count?"

Elizabeth's curious sapphire eyes were on him the second he entered the dining room for breakfast. She looked lovely this morning, as she did every morning, and Jason gave her an amused look as he slid into his seat and reached for his napkin to spread across his lap.

"Good morning to you as well, Elizabeth."

She rolled her eyes. "_Jason_."

God, he loved it when she said his name like that. It was a rare woman that could prove so maddeningly attractive even when she was irritated with him. "Yes?"

"I asked you a question."

"So I heard," he murmured, reaching for a large platter near his plate. "Broiled mackerel again? Remind me to thank our cook."

The brunette pulled a face as he popped a piece into his mouth. "I don't understand how you can eat something like that first thing in the morning. When Father was here, we never had mackerel in this house."

Jason gave her a sloppy smile just to annoy her. "Your Father's not here presently."

"I am quite aware of that," she replied primly, reaching for a roll and the butter. Thankfully, she wasn't like most of the other young ladies in London and actually understood the value of eating properly. "My Father treats me with love and affection – unlike you, you old stick."

His brows jumped. "Stick?"

"In the mud," Elizabeth added. "You're an old stick in the mud, Jason."

His shoulders shook with barely restrained laughter. "And would you prefer that I treat you with…_love and affection _instead, Elizabeth?"

His smile grew when her lips parted in surprise. "Yes, I can see that would be more to your liking."

Her expression grew peevish. "Why do you always insist on saying things like that? You know I can't understand you."

"And that's what makes it so enjoyable," he murmured, reaching for more mackerel.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation, then brightened when she remembered her question. "Oh, I was asking you – how in the world do you know an Italian Count?"

His hands stilled briefly as he applied jam to the breakfast roll, and Jason's eyes flicked up to hers. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because I just saw Count Zacchara riding away in his carriage when I was coming downstairs for breakfast," she replied honestly. "I wasn't aware that you had a guest so early in the morning."

"Gianni and I have been friends for a good many years," Jason replied, wisely deciding to stay with the part he knew he could answer most truthfully. "I still count him among my close friends."

"Yes, but how did you first come to know him?" she asked, her curiosity apparent. There were few things Elizabeth Scorpio enjoyed better than probing him for details about his personal life. It was most inappropriate of her, but Jason found that he couldn't ignore such perfectly charming behavior. It was getting to be quite frustrating, how he found everything she did to be so perfectly charming.

"We met on the street one day," he answered. "I was going to my club and he was going to his, and we happened upon each other en route."

Her enchanting eyes were wide as he spoke, and Jason could almost see her painting a mental picture of the encounter. "Which club do you consider yours?"

"White's, of course," he practically snorted. "All of the Quartermaine men have been going to White's since its inception."

"But you're not a Quartermaine any longer," Elizabeth reminded him slyly. "You're a Morgan."

His lips thinned and quirked up just so. "Some habits die hard, I'm afraid."

"Well, do go on," she encouraged. "So you were on your merry way to White's, and Gianni was on his way to his club."

Jason's brow furrowed. "You know, you really ought not to call him by his Christian name."

She arched a brow superciliously at him. "You would have me continue to refer to him as Count Zacchara?"

"Yes."

"But you call him Gianni."

His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Yes, but he's a close friend of mine. I don't think he'd appreciate you calling him by his given name."

"But he's not present to hear it," Elizabeth grinned. "I shouldn't call him Gianni in his presence until the two of us were the greatest of friends."

That got a matching grin out of him. "You plan to befriend a notoriously rakish Italian Count?"

"Didn't you know?" She shot him a little wink. "My father's not in town."

His lips twitched. "So I've heard."

Her smile continued to grow. "And my guardian at present is a horrendously stodgy, clueless old bird, meaning that I can do whatever I want."

"Really?" His brows jumped, and Jason did his best to look surprised. "I had heard that your guardian at present was an extremely perceptive man, and that he had to be as such because his charge was a whiny little brat."

Her eyes narrowed and Elizabeth stabbed at her muffin with a butter knife. "Eat your smelly fish."

Jason laughed, the chuckles sounding rusty even to him, and rose from his seat. "Have a pleasant day, Elizabeth."

"I don't see how I can't, with you around," she called as he exited the dining room. Jason smiled to himself and dusted his hands on the handsomely tailored blue overcoat he wore. Lord Scorpio had arranged a salary for him during his tenure at the estate, but Jason had vowed then not to take a cent until Robert came back and could judge for himself what amount Jason's work had been.

Instead, he chose to live off of the earnings of his many investments, which meant he lived quite comfortably indeed. His father had been certain that by disowning him he had taken away Jason's hopes for financial stability, but the old fool could not have been more wrong. Indeed, his earnings in the last year alone had been twice as much as Elizabeth's dowry and as the daughter of an affluent Lord, she had quite a sum attached to her name anyway.

The amount was so tempting to the men of London that they were chomping on the bit to marry her. In his six weeks on the Scorpio Estate, Jason had already received seven suitors for her hand. Naturally, he had turned away each and every one of them without bothering to tell Elizabeth. They were a worthless lot and she shouldn't have had to dignify any of them with a second thought.

That was the pretense under which he and Gianni had met this very morning. For all intents and purposes, Gianni had made the trip to the Scorpio Estate to visit his old friend and also see if he might convince him to make an offer for Elizabeth's hand.

In actuality, however, the two of them were arranging the next infiltration. Thanks to Damien's intelligence reports and Ritchie's code-breaking skills, they had a ready list of all suspicious officials in London and could stage their attacks based on that. They would break into the officials' homes, locate financial records and sensitive correspondence, and break in again within a fortnight to replace the goods. And then they'd submit the proof to the highest officer of the War Office, who was legally authorized to make the arrests.

Gianni had talked things over with Johnny, Ritchie, Damien and the others and come to visit Jason bright and early with the news. They had all agreed that it was very advantageous for Jason to remain in the Scorpio estate, so they picked up most of his other duties so that he could maintain appearances there. And now, after talking things over, they knew which house was next on the list.

Scorpio Estate would be infiltrated that night.


	4. In My Lady's Chamber

**In My Lady's Chamber**

_London, England, 1824…_

"Jason, you really do not have to escort me to my bedchambers."

He gave her an unamused look. "Elizabeth, I am well used to your little ploys by now. If I did not escort you to your bedchambers personally, I have no doubt that you would have hopped out the parlor window and been on your way to Almack's by now to squander away ₤10,000."

Her lips curved into a secret, womanly smile. "You just wanted to escort me to bed."

Jason rolled his eyes. "You're too green to even know the meaning of what you just said."

She let out a delighted laugh, only confirming his suspicions, and watched the candle he held throw strange shadows on the wall. "I suppose you're right. But only because you never tell me your wicked stories."

"I don't have any wicked stories."

"No?" She turned dazzling blue eyes up to him, happy to recount all the gossip she'd heard about him around town. "What about that duel you challenged Michael Corinthos to when he insulted your sister Emily's honor? And what of the time you joined the Four-Horse-Club and nearly knocked into Prince George's carriage when he made one of his trips to London? And what of all the money you've gambled away and the legions of women you've seduced and-"

Jason's lips twitched in entirely male amusement. "Well, I wouldn't say legions."

"Everyone else does," she informed him pertly. "Oh, Jason, why won't you tell me your stories?"

"Because it's your bed time, that's why," he informed her, coming to a stop right outside her bedchambers. "It's too late for such things. Here you are, take the candle."

Elizabeth took it hesitantly. "But what shall you do? Your bedchambers are all the way down the hall."

"I'm not retiring to my room just yet. I plan to return to the office and finish up the day's accounts."

"But you'll need the candle, Jason," she persisted, offering it to him. "Go on, you take it."

He shook his head and backed away, his hands clasped behind his back. "It's no matter, Elizabeth, truly. And besides, I know this house like the back of my hand."

And then he turned and walked over toward the stairs in the darkness, not at all concerned that she was puzzling over his last remark.

--------------------------

He had lied.

It was the first time he'd outwardly lied to Elizabeth, but Jason couldn't think about that at the moment. He had no ledgers to fill, no accounts to manage. He only said that so it would give him an excuse to go downstairs. Once there, he was able to undo the latches on the windows that the servants religiously locked before they retired for the night.

Gianni and the other men were very skilled when it came to picking locks – they had learned from him, after all – but Jason figured that the whole endeavor would come to pass more smoothly if a few windows were left unlocked. And as the official caretaker of the estate, that was where his services were required.

With nothing else to do, he glanced around the main floor once more, making sure that the account book was sitting right in the middle of the desk, and headed for the stairs sans candle. It took him all of two minutes to return to his bedchamber and once there, he changed into his nightclothes. It was only half past eleven and he knew the break-in wouldn't occur for another two hours. So he might as well rest his eyes…and pretend to look as if he were caught completely unaware.

The minutes passed quickly as they always do when one is looking forward to and dreading something all at once. He knew exactly how the operation would go: they had it planned down to the last minute. What he didn't know was how Elizabeth would react. He'd probably have to deal with hysterics and God help him, as much as he liked Elizabeth sometimes, he wasn't good with hysterics.

He was sitting back against his headboard, looking out his open window on the rest of London, when he heard faint noise coming from downstairs. Jason turned his face toward the hallway that led to his door and smiled. It was almost time.

----------------------------------

Elizabeth's heart was hammering in her chest as she slowly opened her door, just a crack, just enough to see what was going on out there. And the first thing she saw was a streak of black racing right past her door, catching her entirely by surprise.

"Jason?"

He turned around, his eyes bright and his expression terse. "Get back in your room."

Her lips parted. "W-What?"

"Get back in your room and stay there until I say it's safe," he ground out, pushing her back until she was out of the hall. "Do not _move_, do you understand me?"

"Jason, is this about the noise downstairs-"

"There's someone in the house," he told her quietly, his expression turning grim when her eyes widened. "I need you to stay here. Can you do that?"

She nodded. "…I'll try."

Jason groaned and whirled around, promising that he'd throttle her later. Thankfully, Elizabeth withdrew into her room as he hurtled himself down the stairs, taking them three at a time. So long as Elizabeth was in the house, it wouldn't hurt for him to look like a hero instead of an old stick in the mud, as she put it.

Gianni looked up and grinned as Jason came crashing down the stairs. "Hullo, there. Just dropping in for a cup of sugar."

He laughed and gestured toward the office. "This way. You have any trouble getting in?"

"Swung down through the window in the ceiling."

Jason's eyes widened and he stopped and looked up at the roof. "What on earth for? I left the windows unlocked for you."

Gianni shrugged. "More fun that way."

"Ignorant green boy," Jason muttered, giving him a little shove into the office. "Did John's ship come in yet?"

"No, it was delayed at Cape Hope," Gianni replied affably. "But he's optimistic that it shouldn't be long now. I sure hope not – I've got many a precious cargo on _The Bonnie_."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Keep it under your hat," his friend advised him as they sauntered across the room toward the desk. "But I've got a solid gold goblet with emeralds and rubies and all the like coming on over across the high seas."

That was news to Jason. "Oh? Where'd you get it from?"

"Ali Baba's secret cave," Gianni grinned, coming to a stop by the desk. "Ah, here it is, our book of accounts. Very nice. Let's see how you've maintained it."

He flipped through the crisp pages and gave his old friend a lop-sided smile. "You have such pretty handwriting, Jason."

Jason rolled his eyes, well used to Gianni's teasing, and ran his hand through his hair. "All right, you have the book. Now, let's make a commotion before your getaway so Elizabeth thinks I've apprehended the burglar."

"Looking to be a hero in your Lady's eyes?" Gianni grinned, tucking the book into the waistband of his snug breeches. "She must have some hold on you."

He rolled his eyes again and gave the man a little shove. "Just take the damn book and go."

"No, no, Jason, I'll be sure to put on a good show for your fair Lady," the Italian Count laughed, putting up his fists in the defense pose that Jason had taught him when he first fell in with the Bureau. "Come on, put 'em up, boy, time to be the big hero. She'll be running into your arms if we do our job right. Good thing Signore isn't home, no?"

Jason growled and put up his own fists, balancing his weight on the balls of his feet as he waited for Gianni to throw the first punch. Gianni _always _threw the first punch. And of course, he didn't disappoint. Gianni lunged, Jason turned, and the tussle began.

They knocked over a handsome chair and shattered a lamp in the process, just for authenticity's sake. Gianni ducked and lunged, just as Jason taught him, and they stormed out of the office and into the hall. Knowing this to be the moment of the planned escape, Gianni slipped his leg around behind Jason's and gave him a powerful push that knocked him off his feet and into one of the dainty little end tables.

Gianni ran past the library toward the rope that hung suspended from the skylight, his get away, and took firm hold. Jason picked himself up from the floor, shook himself off, and inwardly laughed at the young Count's choice of entry via rope.

"Oh, my – _Jason_!"

His head jerked up and swore when he saw Elizabeth, dressed in her blue silk nightgown, clinging to the railing. Her eyes were wild and her mouth was hanging open as she watched Gianni clamber up the rope while Jason stood by and watched.

Well, that wouldn't do.

In a flash, he was racing down the hall toward the rope that hung from the ceiling. Gianni, who couldn't see him coming, let out a yell when he was grabbed from behind and roughly hauled to the floor. He grunted again when Jason swung, narrowly missing his nose and catching him lightly on the jaw instead.

With a snarl, he leapt to his feet and squared off with the man defending the Scorpio Estate. Elizabeth looked on in horror as the two men circled each other, each one light on his feet, and then covered her face when Gianni lunged. Jason turned swiftly and tackled him to the floor, spurred on by Elizabeth's triumphant yells.

"You bastard, what the hell?" Gianni grumbled, pushing Jason off of him.

He gave him an apologetic shrug and tackled him again. Gianni drew his knees back and, planting his feet against Jason's torso, heaved him off. He was on his feet in a flash and leapt up, catching the rope several feet off the ground and hastily climbing up before Jason could exact more of a beating.

"Not so fast!"

Gianni looked down in horror as Jason grabbed his waistcoat and tugged the book of accounts out. "Jason, what in God's name-"

"Change in plans," Jason whispered, discreetly jerking his head to signal that Gianni should continue climbing up. "Go, go, go."

Left with little alternative, Gianni pulled himself up and disappeared through the open window, leaving Jason and Elizabeth staring up at the ceiling after him. But not for long. Elizabeth let out a little squeal and tore down the hallway. She hopped up on the railing and slid all the way down, assisted by the silk fabric of her nightgown, and was soon in the foyer. She stumbled over her feet as she sprinted toward him, and the next thing Jason knew, Elizabeth was throwing her arms around his neck.

He lifted her off the ground and swung her around, just because he thought he could, and she surprised him by running her fingers through his hair when he finally set her down.

"Oh, Jason, are you hurt?" Her small hands moved over his chest, his arms, his hips, scanning him for any signs of injury. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Elizabeth, I am," he replied, stilling her hands quickly. The little chit had no idea what she was doing to him, running her hands over his body like that. Really, every man had his limits. "Why didn't you wait in your room?"

"I couldn't," she answered breathlessly, "not when you were down here facing that criminal on your own. Oh, Jason, you looked so perfectly brave!"

He tried not to grin at her compliment. "Well, I didn't…"

"Oh, but you did," Elizabeth continued, the words hurried and tumbling together. "You did, and you defended this house and look – you got the ledgers back! Oh, Jason, you're wonderful."

He stumbled slightly when she threw her arms around him again. "Elizabeth, it's not that big…"

"But it was the burglars," she interrupted again. "The burglars that break into the homes of Parliamentary officials and other high officers. Oh, they probably think Father is working against the Crown, the miserable curs. Jason, you stopped them. They could have stolen his private letters and his account books and…oh, God only knows what they could have done to me, if they knew that I was also here. They might have thought that I would have information on his affairs-"

"Elizabeth." Jason tossed the book onto a hall table and grasped her shoulders firmly, trying not to be distracted by how warm her bare skin was under his rough palms. "Stop. You have to know that…Elizabeth, I would never let anything happen to you. Not on my life."

That broke through her fear, and the brunette actually gave him a small smile. "Yes, I'm beginning to understand that."

« _Last Edit:_ Nov 18, 2007, 3:27pm by Huma the Guma »


	5. The Man You Could Have Been

**The Man You Could Have Been**

_London, England, 1824…_

"Candied fennel seeds, my Lady?"

Elizabeth snatched her velvet bag away and gave Logan an arch look. "Yes, and I would have gladly given you some if you hadn't tattled on me to Father for having that copy of Rabelais on my person."

Her stable boy shrugged apologetically and creased the bill of his cap. "I may have given the information over to your father, my Lady, but I haven't told Mister Morgan of all the times you slipped away to Almack's to gamble."

She grinned and held the satchel out to him. "Oh, very well, I suppose you may have some. Do you know where Jason is presently? I'd like to go riding, and I don't wish to do so in my dress. And I would rather Jason didn't see me in my breeches."

Logan smirked and set his cap back on his head. "Because you deem it inappropriate?"

Her lips twisted downward, her expression perfectly disgruntled. "Because he's threatened to tie me to my bed if he sees me in breeches again."

He let out a laugh and gently cupped her elbow, steering her onto the walkway leading back into the house. "Your friendship certainly is unusual, my Lady. I never would have thought the two of you would get on so well."

Elizabeth stared at him. "Have you gone daft? Logan, Jason cannot stand me. I would have thought it clear to everyone by now."

He gave her a secret, lop-sided little smile and clasped her fingers in his large hand, helping her up the stairs. She didn't need his help – she never did – but it was only the proper way to treat a young lady of her stature. "Of course, my Lady, if that is what you say."

"I do," she replied archly, grabbing her satchel from him. "And give me back my candied fennel."

Logan laughed, executed a smart little bow, and trotted down the steps. "I will have your horse ready for you within the hour, my Lady. I trust you'll be scaling the side of the house, dressed in your breeches?"

She gave him a cheeky little smile and dusted her skirts before stepping into the house. "You know me far too well, Logan."

With that, Elizabeth swept into the house and walked briskly down the hall leading to the grand staircase. Hopefully, Jason was still cloistered away in his office and wouldn't notice if she slipped off to gallop through the park.

She hummed to herself and continued on down the hall, ready to hurry upstairs and change before she could be missed, when she heard Jason's voice coming from his office. That wasn't entirely unusual, but Jason sounded angry, which was. Though not a jovial man, he was definitely the sort who knew how to control his emotions in the presence of others.

"Get out."

The rustling of papers, and then she heard him again.

"I don't know what the hell you think you're doing here, but _get out_ before I throw you out."

Elizabeth's brows shot up. Jason was the consummate gentleman: he _never _vowed to throw anyone out of Scorpio Estate.

And then she heard the voice of whomever it was that was making him so angry.

"Now, now, boy, that's no way to talk."

"I won't tell you again."

"Don't embarrass yourself, son. And spare me the tough talk. My God, you're like a swaggering peacock: nice enough to look at, but of absolutely no use otherwise."

Elizabeth made a face. Well, _that _was a strange thing for one man to tell another. The next remark, however, placed it in some context.

"And I suppose that's how you got your position here at Scorpio Estate. But your looks and your charm won't take you very far in life, boy. You may have everyone fooled into thinking you are a gentleman – nay, a nobleman – because you look and act like one, but they won't be fooled for long."

She let out a little huff and crossed her arms over her chest. That certainly wasn't a very nice thing to say. Apparently, Jason didn't think so either.

"Are you done? Get your bloody ass out of here before I-"

"Again with the threats," laughed the guest. "That's all you're good for, I suppose. I will never understand what that old goat Scorpio was thinking when he left a runt like _you _in charge."

"Robert Scorpio is a good man – an _honest _man – and a loyal Brit, and I will not stand for him being maligned in his own home!"

"Displacement of loyalty – why am I not surprised?" the man drawled. "That was always your problem: you harbor loyalty for anyone and everyone aside from your own family!"

"My _family _doesn't deserve it. The Quartermaines are loyal to none but their own, and certainly not to the Crown!"

"On that again, are you? Oh, give it up, boy, it's in the past. You're the only blooming idiot dragging it up again. Everyone else has moved on, but you are still trapped in the past, savoring old grudges and resentments. And what has it gotten you, Jason? It's cost you your fortune, your name."

"I _have _a name," Elizabeth heard Jason ground out. "And it's Morgan."

The man snorted. "Yes, and I see that name is serving you well. You're the glorified bookkeeper of the Scorpio Estate. My, Jason, how you've finally arrived!"

"Just get out. Don't you have plans for subversion that I'm distracting you from?"

"I'll never understand why you're so bloody stubborn, what reward you get from it," the unwelcome guest sneered. "What are you hoping for here, Jason, managing Robert's finances? Word is that you won't even accept payment from him until he rewards you in person. What do you get from such behavior, such unwarranted and unnecessary _nobility_?"

Elizabeth bristled at the way he sneered it as she waited for Jason's response. Surely he'd have something absolutely caustic to say in response to this stranger's cruelty. After all, no one spoke to Jason Morgan like that, she was certain of it.

But Jason remained silent.

"Oh, my God."

The visitor understood the silence as well, and she had to strain to hear his low voice.

"My God, I know what this is about."

"You know nothing."

"This is about the little chit – little Elizabeth, isn't it? Elizabeth Scorpio, that's what you're hoping to get from all this."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. That was the bloodiest dumbest thing she'd ever heard!

"N-No, you know nothing of which you-"

The man laughed. "No, I understand it all, son, I finally do. You were just waiting for Robert Scorpio to leave for the Curry Post, weren't you?"

"How did you-"

"Know that he was going there? The official word was that he was headed to India; it didn't take very much to figure out just which settlement required his immediate attention. Especially after the War Office exposed Lucky Spencer's collaboration with the French thanks to those anonymous reports."

Elizabeth swallowed noisily and craned her ears, picking up his every word.

"You were just waiting for him to leave for the Curry Post so that you could swoop in and offer your services. You told Robert you'd wait for him to return to decide how much you were worth – and I'll bet that you were hoping he'd add his daughter to the final total."

Well, really, that was insulting.

The man laughed heartily. "Oh, Jason, you pathetic cur, I never would have thought you susceptible to these grand delusions."

"You will shut your goddamn mouth right now if you've any idea what's good for you."

"You'll never have her."

The man's voice, tight and low and growled with such cruelty, sent shivers down Elizabeth's spine.

"I don't want her."

"Of course you do. You've eyes, haven't you? But you'll never have her, you know. She's far too good for you. Robert would never allow his only daughter, his last piece of Anna, to marry a miserable nothing like you. He's a proud man and he's raised a proud daughter, and neither one of them would ever give you a second thought in the quest for her hand. She'll marry well, Jason. Elizabeth is a beautiful, wealthy girl with a dowry enough to line the pockets of three earls, and she'll marry very, very well. And it won't be to you."

"Son of a-"

"But it seems I've overstayed my welcome."

The rustle of a cape, and the office doors were thrown open and Viscount Alan Quartermaine swept into the main hall. Elizabeth squeaked and hopped back, drawing Alan's attention. The Viscount looked at her discerningly, his dark eyes glittering harshly, and then the oddest thing happened.

The corners of his mouth twitched, and the Viscount began to laugh. He threw back his head and laughed as Jason followed him out into the hall, turning to stare at her with vague embarrassment.

Elizabeth squared her jaw and bobbed a quick, insincere curtsey. "Viscount Quartermaine."

Alan removed his hat and swept into a low bow that radiated equivalent insincerity. "Lady Scorpio, you are as charming as always."

He smirked at her and turned for the door, leaving Elizabeth frowning. She wasn't charming ever, much less always, and the bloody Viscount knew it, too.

The two of them stood in silence long after he'd gone. Elizabeth found herself staring at Jason's broad shoulders under his magnificent black coat. He always wore that handsomely tailored coat, no matter how hot or cold it was, and she couldn't quite figure it out. As it was, he was standing there with his spine perfectly straight and rigid and had yet to turn around and acknowledge her. Somehow, she doubted he would.

Slowly, she crept up behind him and placed a hand gently on his back, almost drawing it away in surprise when she found that the man positively _radiated _heat. He was like a furnace! He must have felt her hesitation and misunderstood it because he looked down at her, caught her gaze, then quickly looked away and broke contact with her.

"You will excuse me," she heard him mumble tersely. "I have some work to attend to in my office."

Elizabeth wrung her fingers together as he disappeared into the room and then, thinking better of it, she followed him. She grasped the door and peeked out hesitantly from behind it, her expression soft when his eyes caught hers once more.

Her smile was gentle, a word hardly ever associated with the youngest Scorpio.

"Look on the bright side, Jason. At least he's not legally your father anymore."

The corner of his mouth quirked up, and a piece of hair fell in his face. "Yes, that's true."

"And we've learned something from this little experience," she responded brightly, her glittering eyes giving her away. "At least now we know why you're such an old stick!"


	6. Secret Weapon

**Secret Weapon**

_London, England, 1824…_

_A couple months later…_

"The weather continues quite charming, don't you think, Jason?"

He smiled and settled her hand more comfortably in the crook of his elbow as the two of them walked down the pier by the waterfront. It was Elizabeth's favorite place to be, right along the river, and since he had forbidden her to go there by herself, it fell upon him to take her and stroll along the docks with her.

Not that Jason would have dreamed of complaining.

"It does indeed," he replied affably, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she adjusted her little bonnet, trimmed with lace and pink ribbon and all the lovely little things always found on women's clothing and various accessories. It was actually sunny today, a rarity in London, and they had decided to make the most of it and go for a stroll.

"The docks are so busy today," she marveled, her bright eyes darting around as she followed the movements of countless dockworkers and pageboys that scurried back and forth. "Look! Oh, Jason, look, that's Earl O'Brien's ship right there, _Bonnie_. Isn't that what he calls it?"

Jason glanced over at the boat with the green markings on the sails. "Yes, yes, that's what he calls it."

The Earl, his friend and fellow Bureau member Johnny, tapped his cane impatiently on the wooden planks as his men unloaded his cargo, and happened to catch Jason's eye. He grinned his familiar wide grin, tipping his hat just so.

Jason nodded back in greeting until he saw Johnny direct a particularly rakish look directly at Elizabeth. Without even thinking about it, he pulled her so that she stood a little behind his shoulder.

"Oof," she grunted, nearly tripping over her feet when he gave her a little tug. "Jason, what is the meaning of…Oh!"

She spotted the handsome Irish earl on the pier and waved gaily. "Oh, hello, Earl O'Brien!"

Jason arched a brow at his friend when Johnny had the audacity to grin wolfishly at his charge, then gently turned her back in the direction they had been walking.

"Do you know the earl, Jason?"

"What?" He was still glancing over his shoulder at his friend, who had the terrible impudence to be smirking at him, the bounder. "What? Oh, yes, yes, I do."

"Well, that's something," Elizabeth replied, tapping her finger to her chin. "You were still quite young when you left your family – how in the world did you come to know an earl?"

"The same way I came to know a Lady?" he asked dryly.

Elizabeth gave him a sly look. "He cheated you of your peppermints?"

Jason laughed and offered her his arm, which she happily took. "Almost, but not quite. John knows my brother Alan. They used to frequent White's quite often, and when I began to visit the club as well, I came to know him, too. We still meet around London occasionally."

"I think he's a lovely man."

"Yes, he counts on your thinking that," he replied, unable to keep his expression serious when she elbowed him in the stomach. "Along with every other young woman in London. He profits very much from such thinking, believe me."

She turned excited sapphire eyes up to him, the same eyes he'd spend hours gazing into if she'd let him. "Really? Oh, Jason, do go on. Tell me. Won't you tell me?"

He felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. She did so love hearing tales of depravity and debauchery, and she always begged him to give her the whole story when he alluded to such things. As her best friend, there weren't very many things he didn't tell her. Actually, there were only two things he kept from her: (1) the aforementioned tales of depravity and debauchery and (2) the fact that he'd gone and fallen in love with the horrid little brat that used to steal his candy and now forced him to run after her every two minutes just to make sure she didn't go and get herself in trouble.

"Elizabeth, young ladies shouldn't talk of such things."

"I won't talk of them, I promise," she vowed sweetly, giving his arm a little squeeze through his handsomely tailored overcoat. "I am more than content to leave the talking to you – I shall listen."

He rolled his eyes and neatly pulled her out of the way, against him, when a couple of young boys ran past with thick bundles of newspapers. "Easy there, the docks are bustling this morning. Elizabeth, I don't want to hear another word about it. I'm not going to regale you with wicked tales. You're a lady and you're not even supposed to think of those things."

She pouted and jostled him lightly with her shoulder. As it was, she barely came up to his so she hadn't a prayer of doing any damage. "Oh, Jason, you're no fun. Always talking about me being a lady."

"You _are _a lady," he teased back. "Your father's a Lord, isn't he?"

Elizabeth rolled those maddeningly pretty eyes of her and made a face. "You really are no fun. You won't even let me wear my breeches out."

"No, and I never shall," Jason replied through gritted teeth. She blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden edge to his tone, but he didn't care. As far as he was concerned, he'd die before he let another man in England see her in those perfectly snug black breeches. "You look much nicer in those dresses, anyway."

"You sound just like Father," she huffed, becoming distracted soon enough by the activity on the river. "Oh, Jason, do you think he'll be home soon?"

"I expect we shall get a letter from him when he plans to return," Jason replied idly, spying Count Gianni Zacchara standing by one of the storefronts. He nodded at the young man, who nodded back and gave him a discreet salute.

Ever since he had accepted the position of the caretaker of the Scorpio estate, the Bureau had made amazing progress. With access to Robert's personal correspondence and his contacts, Jason and the others in the Bureau had managed to infiltrate twelve more homes of corrupt British officials and obtained the evidence to remove exactly ten of them from their positions. They had even staged a fake break-in at Scorpio Estate, just so Robert wouldn't be conspicuously missing from the list of affluent London officials.

They had all agreed that it would be excellent of him to continue on in his position, no matter how long it took for Robert to return home. Jason had readily agreed, partly because he enjoyed their success and partly because he enjoyed Robert's daughter.

"But wouldn't it be marvelous if he beat his own letter home? If he wrote the letter and came home on the ship before it? Oh, Jason, the ships carrying mail take longer than those carrying passengers. It would be marvelous, indeed, to have him home again."

"Oh?" He looked down at her fondly, his expression warm. "You don't enjoy your time spent with me?"

Elizabeth gave him a sunny smile that almost made his heart skip a beat. "Not one bit. You're very stodgy for such a young man, you know."

Jason gawked at her. "I beg your pardon?"

She shrugged apologetically without looking too apologetic about it at all. "Well, the fact remains that you are, Jason. You're so concerned about rules and what is proper and all that. Hasn't anyone ever shown you how to have _fun_?"

He gave her a smirky look. "Thank you, but I've seen what can come of too much _fun_."

Elizabeth's mouth fell open. "How about that! I certainly hope you're not referring to _me_."

"Well, the fact remains that you are a brat," Jason mimicked, exacting no small measure of satisfaction from the way she tried to skewer him with a glare. "You're so concerned about doing what you want, when you want, and all that."

"Enough," she sniffed, tapping her fingers on his forearm as he steered her past a small group of burly roustabouts pausing to smoke under an awning. "Jason, I won't stand for you criticizing me."

"Well, someone ought to," he replied, having too much fun teasing her now to stop. "God knows it's all true."

"Jason!" Elizabeth smacked his arm, her lips settling into a peevish line when he let out a grunt of laughter. "You blasphemed!"

"Elizabeth, if that's all I've done in your company, I consider it to have been a very pious day."

"Well." She pulled her hand from the crook of his elbow and folded her arms across her middle, the way she always did when she was cross with him. "I'm not so sure I would like to walk with you any further, Jason, if that is your opinion of me."

They passed one of the ships docked at the pier and Jason moved aside as the dockworkers clambered down the boards, each one carrying a crate of cargo. This was one of Robert's ships from Holland, and all the cargo on board was what Jason had authorized and traded for. He reached out as one of the workers passed and plucked a single bulb from a crateful of tulips, pausing to twiddle it between his fingers.

"I believe you started it with your opinion of me," he replied gently, slipping his arm around her waist to pull her a safe distance away from the water. It was inappropriate, but he couldn't help it. And Jason was just shameless enough to admit that he let his hand linger there a little longer than necessary, and he truly enjoyed himself in doing so. 

"Yes, but I was only teasing." Elizabeth had noticed the flower in his hand and was now eyeing it, trying desperately not to let on that she wanted it. Red was her very favorite color after all, and he knew it, the fiend.

Jason reached out and took hold of her elbow, pulling her to a gentle stop and turning her so she faced him. His expression still soft, he held up the flower and waggled it under her nose. "Yes, but I wasn't."

Unable to help herself, Elizabeth let out a little laugh and snatched the flower from his hand. "Ooh, you're awful, Jason, simply awful. I vow I will never understand why I like you so well."

The best way to answer that would have been to take her in his arms and kiss that smug little smirk away. But she wasn't his to kiss, and she would never be his to kiss, so Jason just gave her one of his exasperated little smiles, took her arm again, and continued to lead her along on their little stroll by the river.

"You take advantage of my compassionate nature and sunny disposition, to be sure."

"To be sure," he murmured in reply, just to vex her. It always worked, and it always got a rise out of her, and he did it mostly because he loved to see her fired up. She was so fetching when her eyes sparked, when her mouth curved downward and she gave him one of those looks – it should have been wrong to find someone so infuriatingly attractive when that someone was so upset at the time.

Jason glanced over his shoulder again at Gianni, his brows furrowing when he spotted two tall police officers standing with him. They were speaking quite urgently, and Gianni actually looked worried.

He frowned and turned forward, troubled by the sight but more determined now to keep moving. "Let's go this way."

Elizabeth paused in her admiration of the valuable flower she held and blinked in surprise. "That way? But, Jason, that's an alleyway. Why should we take an alleyway?"

"It'll be an adventure," he replied dryly, squeezing her hand. "You do so love adventures, don't you?"

"Yes, but I'll get my skirts dirty."

He couldn't resist stopping and giving her that impish grin of his. "Since when has that ever bothered you?"

Elizabeth's eyes lit up. "You're right. Let us go."

"Not so fast. Stop that man! Stop him!"

Jason slipped an arm around Elizabeth's waist and would have dragged her into the alley for a neat getaway if two police officers hadn't barred his path. Two more came running down the docks, jostling the workers, and three more appeared with Lord Scott Baldwin.

"Jason Morgan! Stop that man!" Lord Baldwin was panting as he approached, and his hazel eyes glittered when he saw that the two were entirely surrounded. "There, we have him."

Elizabeth gripped Jason's arm and looked around, eyeing the officers suspiciously. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Jason Morgan, you are hereby placed under arrest for undermining the Prince Regent's court, as well as harassing and stealing from his top officers. I am authorized by the Crown to bring you in."

Jason's steely eyes swept over the docks, landing on Gianni and Spinelli. The two Italians were trying their best to come closer and help, but were being restrained by the officers of the Crown. Earl O'Brien had also spotted the commotion and was now weaving through the maze of spectators, trying to come to his friend and partner's rescue.

"You can't do this," Elizabeth got out through gritted teeth, surprising them all with the venom in her voice. "You have no power to do so. We are under the authority of the Prince's Governor of Charles Porte-"

"And I have been appointed by him to investigate the recent string of burglaries," Scott interrupted, his glittering eyes boring into Jason's. "I'm afraid you don't quite know what your guardian has been up to, Lady Scorpio."

Jason closed his eyes, missing the warmth of her hand instantly when Elizabeth drew it back. That was the opening the officers needed to move in and close on him, holding him firmly until they received the order to shackle him. There was no way to stop this: Scott was looking for any excuse to make his affairs public to all, and once he did, Elizabeth would never look at him the same way again. Their banter, their comfortable friendship, the ease with which they understood each other, it would all be lost to him ever more.

"For the past year, he has been a menace to London society." Scott's voice was loud and booming, making sure to alert everyone on the docks to the peculiar goings-on. "He has been breaking into the homes of affluent Crown officials and stealing important financial documents, then forging them so as to make these officials appear guilty of treason."

"They _were _guilty of treason," Jason got out as two of the officers restrained John, who had gotten uncomfortably close. "Every last one of them. And still more."

"I would be careful if I were you," Scott growled. "It is a serious offense to malign a high official. Do you see, my Lady? He is a menace to all of England."

"I don't care what you say he's done," Elizabeth replied flippantly, crossing her arms over her chest. Jason gaped at her, but the young woman wasn't finished. "You have always had a personal vendetta against Mister Morgan, Lord Baldwin, because everyone knows that his father had planned a way to sway Parliamentary elections in _your _favor until Mister Morgan exposed the plot. So you'll pardon me for thinking that there may be a conflict of interest here."

Scott's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I know you are accustomed to speaking your mind, Lady Scorpio, but you would be wise to remember-"

"And _you _would be wise to remember that my father is a personal friend of the Prince Regent," she ground out. "He was successful in thwarting a direct attempt on his Highness's life, and for that Prince George has sworn eternal amity to the Scorpio family."

"Your idle threats might save you for your impertinence, but they won't work in Jason's favor."

Elizabeth tilted her chin up and looked him directly in the eye. "I believe they will – and my threats are never idle, Lord Baldwin."

One of the officers restraining Jason actually choked at that, making him smile. He did so love it when she got fired up.

"My father is presently away in India overseeing our properties there," Elizabeth continued. "And on his return, I cannot imagine that he will be happy to learn that you've arrested the very capable caretaker of his entire estate and financial holdings."

Scott was beginning to lose his temper. "His very capable caretaker was most likely robbing him blind-"

"You cannot arrest Mister Morgan without fearing swift recourse from my father."

Her stark claim seemed to almost amuse Scott. "Oh? And why not? What could possibly keep him in your father's good graces once he learns of his treachery? What is more important to Lord Scorpio than his reputation and his holdings?"

"I am," Elizabeth replied simply, and there wasn't a damn thing in the entire world that could have prepared Jason for what was to come next. "And you cannot arrest Mister Morgan without angering my father because the two of us are…affianced."


	7. A Most Captive Audience

**A Most Captive Audience**

_London, England, still 1824…_

The Scorpio house was absolute bedlam ever since Lady Elizabeth Scorpio had announced her engagement to Mister Jason Morgan. It was absolutely scandalous – a Lady betrothed to a mere Mister! – and the entire _ton _was buzzing about it.

And Jason wasn't exactly thrilled with it, either.

It had been impossible to speak to Elizabeth after she announced that she was promised to him. Lord Baldwin had wisely decided to suspend the warrant for Jason's arrest until Lord Scorpio returned home to corroborate what he felt was an erroneous claim. If he had arrested Jason and it turned out to all be true, he knew he'd be in for it as far as both Lord Scorpio and the Prince Regent himself were concerned.

Ever since he had been released to the custody of the Scorpio estate and given strict orders not to leave London, Elizabeth had been caught up in a whirlwind of activity. Before he could even say two words to her about her outrageous and foolish lie, she scurried off to her bedchambers to write a few missives. She came down with the sealed envelopes just as he'd finished his supper but had then received a guest, her best friend Miss Georgiana Jones, and retired to her private parlor. The two of them had stayed in there for so long that he had finally given up and retired to his own bedchambers.

The next morning, Elizabeth was already out and about by the time he woke up. He ate his breakfast alone, and then ate his lunch alone, and it was just as he was pouring himself a cup of tea in the early afternoon that she came hurrying back in. She'd been at her modiste's shop all day, she had explained hurriedly, and now had some other work to attend to.

And then the damn fool little woman had disappeared again!

Naturally, all of this put Jason in an incomparably foul mood. His alleged fiancé had announced their non-existent engagement right on the public docks, and then disappeared to write her blasted letters and visit her dressmaker and chat with her best friend, and didn't have a minute to speak with him so that they could figure out a way to make this dreadful business go away.

In the end, it was his friends that found him and asked him the questions Jason most wanted to ask Elizabeth.

"What in God's name was that all about?" Johnny O'Brien wanted to know as he took a seat on the edge of a handsomely carved chair. They were seated in the main parlor, a room Elizabeth used most despite the fact that she had her own private parlor, and all of the furniture was dainty and suited for petite, delicate womanly figures. Jason had often wondered whether or not the furniture was all designed with the express purpose of making men feel large and oafish.

"Jason, you old dog," Gianni grinned, propping his feet up on the pretty little table before Jason angrily kicked them off. "You got your _inamorata _after all."

Ritchie watched his old friend pace the room. "It's not true, is it, Jason?"

He shook his head, his movements jerky and agitated. "No, no, it's not true. It's just the first thing that popped into her fool head. She's always saying the very first thing that pops into her head, damn it all…"

"Well…" Gianni trailed off, scratching the light black stubble on his cheek. "I don't see how that's entirely a bad thing."

The Irish earl shared the Count's impish grin as Jason's scowl became downright menacing. "I agree with Gianni. The first thing that popped into her head, you say? Well, that's very promising for you, Jason. Very promising, indeed."

Ritchie bit back a laugh when Jason's pacing quickened. "All right, all right, can't you see you're upsetting him?"

"But that's half the fun," Gianni laughed, slapping his knee loudly. "Do you ever remember Jason being so vexed before? I certainly cannot. And the fact that it's a girl that is vexing him so only makes the whole situation that much more amusing."

"Enjoy it while you can," Ritchie drawled, squirming in the chair that jabbed him in the ribs every time he moved, "because I'm afraid Jason's going to end up putting a bullet between your eyes before the day is through."

Jason would have replied and confirmed that beyond the shadow of a doubt, but he was immediately distracted by noise out in the foyer. Any small noise his mind equated with Elizabeth, and he was already high-strung enough around her. Especially since she'd gone and declared herself his intended.

And sure enough, it was her. She was with her ladies' maid, Lulu Hayes, the wife of her stable hand, and had apparently been asked what Jason would later characterize as a sensitive question.

"No, no, I only needed to finish my missive to Prince George," she was saying. "I sent one to Father yesterday, advising him of the newest developments, and I just sent your husband to deliver the one addressed to the Prince now. Lord Baldwin is acting on official orders, and the Prince only needs to speak with my father to learn that Jason and his men are no threat to the crown."

They heard her rustling about in the hall. Lulu murmured a question, and Elizabeth's voice carried even though hers didn't.

"Oh, before that? I went to my modiste and had a dozen dresses made. I'm an engaged woman now, Lulu, and I ought to present myself as such."

"It was the dresses that took so long, my Lady?" they heard her ask.

"No, it was another matter. I went shopping for…a few things for my surprisingly imminent wedding night."

Johnny, Gianni, and Ritchie all turned around in their uncomfortable seats and looked at Jason with almost comic alacrity. After all, it wasn't every day that one got to see one's fearless leader blush a brilliant shade of scarlet. And Jason was well on his way to doing just that.

"Did you find anything?"

"I couldn't decide," they could hear Elizabeth lament. "I couldn't decide on a single thing to buy. The shopkeeper must have shown me every single piece of lingerie in the store, but I just couldn't decide. How am I to know what Jason likes? What colors, what fabrics, what cut? Lulu, why on earth are you laughing? You'd best not be laughing at _me_."

"I'm not, my Lady, I swear it."

"Then what are you thinking? Tell me, Lulu, I must know. You have more experience than I – after all, you're already married. And you must share with me the details."

"Well, you'll pardon me this, my Lady, but I must say, it's my experience that…it doesn't so much matter what night-things you buy."

The men heard an audible pause, most unusual for Elizabeth.

And then, "Why not?"

"Because he's just going to take it off anyway."

Jason blanched and kicked himself into motion. "Unbelievable," he muttered, almost clearing the coffee table and putting an end to such ridiculous conversation before Gianni leapt up and grabbed hold of his arm.

"Not so fast," he grinned, steering Jason back and away from the door. "I want to hear what these little chits talk about when they think no one is listening."

"Yes, and at my expense?"

He shrugged modestly. "Well, that's the best sort of conversation."

"Is he really? Just like that? How quickly?"

"Oh, very quickly, I'm afraid, my Lady."

"Afraid? What is there to be afraid of?"

"Er, nothing, my Lady, I didn't mean it like that. Well, I suppose some women do have reason to be afraid, unfortunately, but not if they're with the right man. The right man will take away your fear that night and replace it with something else."

"Like what?"

"I'm afraid I couldn't say, my Lady."

"Why? Is it a secret? I think it's very cruel of you to keep such a secret from me, Lulu. Especially when I tell you almost everything."

"No, it's not a secret, really, it's just very hard to put into words. But I suppose you'll know soon enough. May I ask you one question? Do you think Mister Morgan is the right man?"

"The right man? The right man to do what?"

"What we just spoke of."

"Oh, oh, that. Well, how should I know? Honestly, Lulu, that's a highly irrelevant question to ask."

"Of course, my Lady. Forgive me."

"I suppose I'll have to go back to the store tomorrow and see if I can find something. Perhaps I should just close my eyes and point, and have the shopkeeper wrap up whatever it is that wins the lot. Won't that be interesting?"

"Is the decision really that difficult for you?"

"Well, of course it is, otherwise we wouldn't very well be having this conversation. There were so many choices, I just couldn't decide for the life of me. I haven't done this before, you know. Perhaps that's the problem. If only I'd done this before…"

"Dear God," Jason muttered to himself, struggling to get past Gianni. The boy might have been young, but he was an iron wall when he was being particularly stubborn. Foolishly, Jason had once thought that would be a great asset to their covert organization.

"Well, no matter. I haven't done this before, so I shall have to make do with what I do know at the moment. I wish I had someone to go with me and help. This is the sort of thing a mother is supposed to do, or at most a mother-in-law. But I haven't got a mother anymore, and England will crash into France before I ever seek out Jason's mother for help with this sort of thing."

"What of your friend, Miss Georgiana?"

"She was supposed to go with me, the ninny," Elizabeth huffed. "But we came to a stop in front of the shop when she suddenly came down with a headache."

"That's very suspicious, my Lady."

"That's what I said. It turns out she's too embarrassed to set foot in that shop! Can you believe it, Lulu? My own best friend is too milky-livered to help me. I shall have to exact my revenge – perhaps after I've made all the wedding plans."

"Would you like my advice?"

"Oh, you might as well give it, Lulu, you always do."

They heard her footsteps in the hall, and the maid scurrying after her. People always scurried after Elizabeth: that was just what they did.

"Get something in silk. And blue, to match your eyes."

"My eyes? Wouldn't that be too dark? You'd have me look like a strumpet on my own wedding night, Lulu. That's very malicious of you, but I approve and I forgive you. Every woman should be just a little malicious."

Jason heard the maid laugh as Elizabeth's shadow fell across the parlor door. "You could never look like a strumpet, my Lady. And how about this? How about you get something in silk, but the color of _his _eyes? I'm sure he'd like that!"

"Do you know, that's not a bad idea. I should hope-"

Elizabeth stopped when she stepped into a parlor and spotted all four men watching her with a wide spectrum of looks that ranged from Ritchie's vague interest all the way to Jason's seething fury. Lulu crashed into her, jostling her from behind, and covered her mouth with her hand when she saw the men.

Elizabeth's lips settled into a grim line as she surveyed the foursome, and a light flush gently crept up her neck. Still, she determined not to be embarrassed and actually managed to give Lulu a saucy wink.

"Per your suggestion earlier, Lulu – don't you think it would be easiest for everyone if I simply brought Jason with me?"

Her fiancé sputtered something perfectly intelligible as Gianni let out a laugh that sounded more like a blast. Shoulders shaking, he sauntered away from Jason and over to the lady of the house.

Sweeping into a low, gentlemanly bow, the Italian Count took Elizabeth's hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles as Jason scowled behind him.

"My Lady _dulcinea_," he murmured as he straightened and held her gaze. "You've done that miserable boy over there a great service by offering him your hand. I trust you'll be able to keep him in line better than any of us, and for that, believe me, we are all truly grateful."


	8. An Interview With A Groom

**An Interview With A Groom**

_London, England, still 1824…_

Lulu quickly latched on to her foolish, foolish husband's arm when he dared to set foot in the house. "What are you doing? You don't step in, you step _out_!"

"What are you talking about, wife?" he demanded. "Elizabeth likes to go riding at precisely this time, and I've just finished hitching up her mount."

"It is us who had better mount," Lulu grumbled, dragging him out through the door. "Jason and Elizabeth have been arguing _all morning_."

Logan stopped and listened for a minute, picking up the yells coming from Elizabeth's private parlor. "You're right – let us leave immediately before they draw _us _into it."

So he took her small hand in his and gave her an unnecessary tug, and the two of them were soon sprinting off down the walkway and over to the stables, where at least the horses weren't completely insane and volatile unlike the present inhabitants of Scorpio Estate.

-------------------

"Honestly, Elizabeth, I don't know what to do with you!"

"How about thanking me? I've yet to hear you do that."

"Thank you? For having everyone believing a stupid lie?"

"It's not a stupid lie! It saved your life, didn't it? You'd be on a cart straight to the gallows if I hadn't announced-"

"Announced what?" he fired back, his eyes blazing as he towered over her. "That you were my intended?"

"Of course," Elizabeth shot back. "Why is this so difficult for you to understand? Either you marry me or you face your death. You offend me, Jason, by making the decision seem so difficult."

"I offend you," he muttered, turning on his heel and stalking down the hall. "I offend _you_. I need a damn drink."

She huffed and followed him, dogging his steps. "You always need a damn drink."

"Don't swear."

"You swear."

"I'm upset."

"I gathered," she muttered, almost crashing into his chest when he turned around abruptly before they had reached the parlor. "Euf!"

He reached out and steadied her, not particularly caring when his thumbs brushed the creamy skin of her shoulders. (God, how he loved current women's fashions.) After all, she was to be his. He could touch her damn shoulders if he wanted.

"Elizabeth…"

"Jason, I don't understand why this has to be so difficult," she cut in, not particularly surprising him. Elizabeth _always _cut in. "No, just listen to me. It's not that difficult, and it's certainly nothing to be upset about."

She was getting worked up now, and her words were coming faster and closer together as she tried to convince him out of his foul mood. 

"You see, it's not that bad. Our engagement buys us time. I've already told Miss Amy Vining that the last thing Father did before he left for India was finalize our engagement, and once she knows something the entire _ton _knows it. So it's well publicized by now."

Jason groaned, prompting Elizabeth to quickly place her hand on his arm. "And if everyone knows of our supposed engagement, you are beyond reproach, Jason. Why do you suppose most everyone calls me Lady Scorpio? I'm not Lady Scorpio: Lady Scorpio was my mother. I'm just a Miss. But everyone's either afraid of my father or so in raptures over him that they've passed the title on to me for some unknown reason!

"Don't you see?" she asked excitedly, giving his arm a little squeeze. "If you're with me, they can't touch you. Even Lord Baldwin is too afraid to come after you. Have you ever heard of anyone _suspending _a warrant? It's unheard of! Except if you're dealing with a friend of a friend of the Prince Regent which, like it or not, is exactly what you are."

He had to roll his eyes at her reasoning, even though it was all true down to the last word. "Elizabeth…"

"And I only just sent a missive to my father at the Curry Post," Elizabeth added. "It will take several weeks for it to arrive, and then he'll know what necessitated our match. And then it shall take him at least a few weeks to return home to England. And during that time, the two of us will continue to stay on at Scorpio Estate, just as we were, without fearing Lord Baldwin's threats. And in that time, Prince George will also have received my missive – I made sure to write it on our official family stationary with our crest – and he will be prepared to give you his support and grant you and your men a full pardon once Father explains everything."

"But-"

"And we shall pretend to be the perfect engaged couple," Elizabeth rushed on. "We'll simply say that we didn't make our engagement public because we want to hold our engagement ball once Father returns home, since our match was entirely fortuitous and we couldn't possibly have arranged a ball before Father left."

"But-"

"It won't be a difficult illusion to maintain," she persisted. "Of course, we'll have no choice but to maintain it. The only way to get out of it would be for you to say that you caught me in a compromising position with another man – at least that way, you can cry off."

His eyes blazed again, making him look impossibly fierce and even angrier, if at all possible. "I would _never _falsely accuse you of something like that, Elizabeth."

"But that way we can get out of the marriage," she pointed out.

Her addition only fueled his ire. "Elizabeth, I would _never _ruin you. Not for anything."

"Very well," she sighed as if she hadn't just proposed something so completely out of the question. "I rather thought you wouldn't be willing to do that. And of course, that means we'll have to marry. We've already announced our engagement; there is no way other than what I mentioned to back out of it."

Jason swallowed roughly, lifting his gaze until he was looking directly over her head at the large doors that led out to the sunlit gardens. "Then we must marry."

"Well, yes, that's what I've been saying," she agreed quietly, troubling her lip as she watched him stare emptily out the door. They stood there like that for a long moment until Elizabeth surprised them both by taking his other hand in hers and giving him a little squeeze. Jason snapped out of his silent reverie and blinked at her, then looked down at their enjoined hands.

"It won't be the end of the world, Jason," she got out in a low voice. "We'll make it work, and it will keep you safe from anyone that would ever try to blackmail you or have you hanged. And I will be a good wife to you, Jason, I promise it. You won't regret marrying me."

Before he could open his mouth and say something – anything – Elizabeth's eyes widened in horror. "Oh! Unless you're in love with someone else!"

Jason's lips parted, and it took his mind a minute to kick into gear. It was amazing how her thoughts jumped and tumbled, one after the other, until she arrived at the conclusion that he was head over heels in love with someone else and thereby reluctant to marry her. "Elizabeth-"

Her eyes were shining, and she snatched her hands from his and began to wring them together. "Oh, of course, all this time I've been prattling on about – and the reason you didn't want to – Oh, Jason, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think that it was possible you had a woman-"

He snapped his mouth shut. Well, really, that was just insulting.

"-and I've been so selfish, thinking of how I may keep you safe and all the while there's-" she appeared to choke slightly on the words but recovered admirably. "There's another woman out there who needs you safe for herself. I understand, I understand completely."

And then she was off on another one of her whirlwind schemes, and Jason found that his head was beginning to hurt.

"I know what we'll do. There's only one thing to do. You'll have to cry off. We'll have to say that you caught me in a compromising position with…with…John O'Brien."

He gaped at her. "What?!"

"Oh, fine, then, not John? Gianni, then. Yes, yes, he'll do. No woman in her right mind can resist an Italian."

Okay, that was pretty insulting as well.

"We'll say that you caught me in a compromising position with him, and then you'll be free. You needn't worry about my reputation, Jason, I'm sure I'll recover. Or I'll withdraw to one of our country manors and live out my life as a spinster there. Or maybe I'll move to Scotland. I can do that, you know. And then you'll be free to marry the woman you…wish to marry."

That was about enough of that. There was only a certain amount a man could be expected to take, after all.

"Am I ever to get a word in?" he snapped, his hands curling into loose fists as he gave her a perfectly supercilious look. "Well?"

Her mouth opened and shut, leaving her looking quite like a fish. "I…I suppose if you felt you needed to, yes."

He snorted. "Good."

And then he grabbed her by the shoulders and, pulling her to him, crushed his mouth to hers. Elizabeth squeaked, but her half-protest was lost against his lips. He pulled her closer, letting her feel him against her body from shoulder to thigh, until there wasn't a breath of space between them. His mouth moved slowly over hers in hot seduction, orchestrated in such a way as to shut the little chit up but good. Before he was through with her, she'd realize how his friendship with her had changed, how he burned for her, and how she wouldn't be able to live without his touch anymore.

She had melted in his arms, and Jason surmised that it was quite possible that he was the only thing holding her up off the ground. Her small hands were settled hesitantly on his broad shoulders, almost as if Elizabeth didn't quite know what to do with them. She didn't quite know how to move her lips against his, either, but Jason didn't need her to. This was about _showing _her, once and for all, everything he couldn't capture in words.

She let slip a quiet moan, just a shade louder than a breath, and Jason could feel his blood swirling hotly. She had absolutely no idea how she made him yearn for her, how she drove him half-mad with that yearning until he was certain that he wasn't even himself anymore, but instead a man possessed.

The sound of hoofbeats outside the house, along with an older man's gruff laugh, caused Elizabeth to squeak again and jump out of his arms. Jason stared down at her, baffled, but recognized the wild look in her eyes to be nothing short of terror.

"My God," she whispered, not particularly caring that she had blasphemed in his presence. "It's Father. He's returned home early."


	9. Secrets And Spies And Minced Meat Pies

**Secrets and Spies and Minced Meat Pies**

_London, England, 1824…_

"But, Father, I really must speak with you."

"Elizabeth, dearest, I understand," Robert cajoled, even as he took his daughter's arm and led her to the door. "My darling, I've missed you, too, tremendously, and I'm very much looking forward to learning what it is you've been up to these past few months. But right now, darling, it is imperative that I speak to Jason."

"But that's what we need to speak to you about!"

"All in good time," he agreed, giving Jason an absent nod as he herded Elizabeth outside the parlor doors. "Now, then, Luv, I've brought you back ten pounds of candied fennel. How fortunate for you that it doesn't spoil. It's in the kitchen with Cook – go on, go on."

"But, Father!"

"There's my good girl," he beamed, pulling the door shut. "I will see you in a bit for tea, my dear."

"Oooh!"

That was the last sound Elizabeth got out before her father all but slammed the door in her face, and Robert rolled his eyes at the angry little outburst. "I love my daughter, Jason, you understand, but I find that sometimes I need to build up my strength before I speak to her. Now, a drink? Have a drink with me."

"My Lord, Elizabeth was right," Jason got out, following the aging nobleman as he retrieved a twenty-year old bottle of scotch from behind a stack of books on the shelf. "There is something of dire importance that we must speak of."

"It seems lots of people are speaking of you two," Robert murmured, pouring the scotch liberally into two glasses. "Rumor has it that you're to be wed."

Jason paused. "Er, yes. But I can explain."

"Felicitations," Robert beamed. "I love a good wedding. Weddings always make me feel younger. They're a bright new start, don't you think?"

His blue eyes darted around the room, and Jason wasn't quite sure what he was expected to say. "Er…yes?"

"Indeed," the nobleman replied happily. "Nothing like a good wedding."

"My Lord."

"Robert."

"Robert," he tried again. "You are aware that this wedding is to take place between myself and your daughter."

"That's what I had thought I heard," Robert nodded, confirming Jason's thoughts that he was in fact absolutely senile. "The way all the young men and women in London are getting on these days, one can never tell. Did you know that Michael Corinthos had to call off his engagement to Caroline Roberts because he got the tavern wench – oh, goodness, what is her blasted name? Ah! Samantha McCall, Irish girl – pregnant and she came to his home and announced it in front of everyone? And I learned this just twenty minutes' way from my home. Imagine that."

"Robert," Jason cut in, wishing the old man would just focus. "It's not Michael Corinthos's wedding that should concern either of us at the moment."

"Oh, you want to talk of yours?" Robert pulled a face. "Always all about business, aren't you? Ah, well, if you feel you must. Get on with it, then."

Jason gaped at him. "Uh…"

What was he supposed to say? That he was marrying Robert Scorpio's only daughter with dowry enough to buy a small island, and that he was damn pleased with the turn of events because every time he so much as saw the girl in the past eight months, he wanted nothing more than to lay her down, strip her bare, and lay claim to her?

Somehow, he doubted that would go over well. 

"Well, get on with it," Robert urged. "I assume this fortuitous union has something to do with your merry band of cut-throats."

His eyes widened, but Jason could manage no other movement in the face of such a tremendous reveal.

Lord Scorpio smiled slowly, thinly, proving that only fools would consider him senile. "I've known since you set foot in this house and inquired about the position of its caretaker."

Everything in the house was suddenly too quiet. "You couldn't have."

"You're a very intelligent boy, Jason," Robert allowed, his pale blue eyes twinkling at having been in the company of a man with a secret so similar to his own. "But you made a slip in conversation that day that I noticed."

He swallowed roughly. "That being?"

"When I informed you that the houses of royal officials were being broken into, you inquired as to what the 'robber' took. Robber," he repeated. "Not robbers. Not plural. And since robberies of this nature are almost always committed by highwaymen – who usually work in small groups so as to be most effective – I assumed right away that you had inside knowledge.

"Besides," he added with a chuckle. "You looked quite offended when I said that the hoodlum responsible terrorized the Crown. You practically presented that one to me on a silver platter, I'm afraid."

Jason gritted his teeth and looked away, earning a cluck from the nobleman. "Oh, don't look so upset, my boy. It was only to be expected. After all, what chance do you have against a seasoned veteran of the War Office?

"Yes, Jason, I know you know," Robert murmured when Jason's eyes snapped to his. "Not even Elizabeth knows that I'm a spy for the British government. And it's very fortunate for you that I am."

He swallowed again, his eyes following Robert as he walked around his desk. "What are you going to do?"

"You're my future son-in-law," Robert replied affably. "I'm going to do everything I can for you."

Jason's lips settled into a grim line. "You don't have to accept me," he reminded Robert carefully. "I was expecting you wouldn't."

The older man turned to him, a small, almost admiring smile on his lips. "Yes, you probably were."

He arched a brow. "It's just that I didn't think you would approve of our match – or Elizabeth's reasons for announcing it."

"Oh?"

Jason let out a short breath through his nose, a touch frustrated with the nobleman's _lack _of frustration. "We're not an even match. Her title, your family heritage…She has no reason to believe so strongly that I acted in service of the Crown. And-"

"Jason-"

"She doesn't love me. I thought you'd want a love match for your only daughter, if it were at all possible."

Robert smiled again. "Elizabeth doesn't stick her neck out for someone unless she cares very deeply about them. And from what my staff members tell me, you two have rekindled quite a friendship."

He looked away, staring blankly out the window. "A friendship is one thing-"

"It's more than most men and women have when they marry," Robert interrupted sagely. "It was more than what Anna and I had when we wed. Elizabeth cares deeply about you, as evidenced by her willingness to tell such a monumental lie. And I'm confident that she will make a good wife for you."

Jason let out a short laugh entirely lacking in humor. "You are taking this whole matter very well, my Lord."

"It's Robert," he corrected again. "And Jason, it should be no secret by now that I like you. I've liked you ever since you were a boy. I always tried to slip extra peppermints in your pocket because I knew my daughter would steal yours – and you'd let her. And I came to like you even more when you stood up to that louse of a father of yours – forgive me for calling him that."

Jason shrugged. "I've called him so much worse…"

Robert let out a loud laugh at that. "Oh, I'll bet you have. You were nothing like him, you know. Your brother is – the spitting image, although I don't picture him quite as dastardly. But you were always different. You had such a strong sense of who you were that even his stripping you of your fortune and your family name didn't bother you. Quartermaine was just a name you inherited: Morgan was the name you created."

He let out a small sigh and swirled his scotch around the glass. "There are precious few self-made men in London, Jason. And I am honored to welcome one of them into my family."

Jason didn't quite know what to say to that. Robert knew this, and quickly pressed on. "The reason I'm taking this whole matter well, as you put it, is because I'm not altogether surprised. I don't know, perhaps this was what I had been hoping for all along when I left you in charge of my estate. I haven't decided," he shrugged when Jason shot him a bewildered look.

"Here is what I propose to do. I will speak to my contacts in the War Office. I will have commissions drawn up for you and the men you list as part of your organization. I will see to it _personally _that they are validated. While that is being done, I shall pay a visit to his Highness Prince George and explain the nature of the situation to him. I have every confidence that he will see the valor and the goodness of what you've done for England."

He nodded to himself. "I will make this all go away, Jason. You needn't worry about it anymore. Besides," he added jauntily, walking over to click his glass to Jason's. "You've got a wedding coming up."


	10. The Family Way

**The Family Way (NC-17)**

_London, England, still 1824…_

"This is where you live?" Elizabeth's wide eyes slowly traveled around the cozy flat in Harborview that Jason had accommodated ever since he moved out of his ancestral home. "It certainly looks like you live here."

"Because I'm standing here?" Jason drawled.

His wife shook her head. "No, because it's so very plain."

He blinked. "Are you calling me plain?"

"Oh, very much so," she agreed happily. "But it suits you. I've decided as much."

Jason snorted in response. He could rarely find the words to answer Elizabeth's often-peculiar sentiments, and he found that the odd grunt worked best in way of reply. "At any rate, this is my house. This is where I lived before my stay at Scorpio Estate as well. I have a very small staff and made sure they knew they were not to be on hand during my wedding night."

"How forward-thinking of you," she murmured, her gaze drifting over to the hallway that led down to the large bedroom.

"I'll give you a tour of your new home," Jason announced, giving her hand a little tug. "This way."

Elizabeth was still looking down the hall. "Mm, maybe another time."

He blinked down at her, and his mouth twitched when he saw where she was staring. "You don't wish to look around? The kitchen is just through there, that is my main parlor, those are my offices-"

"Not really, Jason, no, I don't wish it."

"And those are my bedchambers," he added, grinning when her grip on his large hand tightened.

"Let's tour those," Elizabeth responded instantly, looking up innocently at him when he laughed.

Jason couldn't quite help it: she always amused him that way. He had assumed, quite foolishly in retrospect, that she would be nervous about their wedding, and in particular their wedding night. But she hadn't been, not one bit.

Elizabeth had been absolutely radiant at their engagement ball. She had danced with her father and with her male cousins, and then she had shared a waltz with him in front of practically the whole _ton_. Their wedding had been held in Scorpio Estate but only because Robert had wanted nothing more than for his daughter to marry in the same home that he had married her mother.

As for their wedding night…well, he dared say that it was the part Elizabeth had most been looking forward to, especially after all the times she had tried to coax the details out of him and her ladies' maid, Lulu Hayes, neither of whom would oblige her no matter the bribes she offered.

And now it was finally upon them.

The sun was beginning its declivitous path through the sky as Jason laced his fingers through his wife's and led her toward his richly appointed bedchambers. The light streamed in through the windows, for he rarely let down the curtains on his own, and bathed the room in a rich golden glow.

Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the room, less then two paces from his massive bed, and looked around. Jason gently shut the door and came up behind her, loosely slipping his arms around her waist.

"I can't believe in all our time of friendship, you never showed me your home."

He smiled indulgently. "For most our time of friendship, my home was your home."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Well, yes, technically, I suppose…"

"And besides," he added, slowly turning her in his arms so that they stood facing each other. "It would hardly have been appropriate. And my neighbors are all young bachelors that like to gossip."

Especially that Damien Spinelli, who would have been beside himself with mirth to see a young lady visiting him.

Elizabeth considered this, and her eyes suddenly lit up. "I could have worn my breeches – no one would have known it was me."

His stern frown stopped her. "What have I told you about those breeches?"

Her lips pursed into a pout. "You never let me have any fun."

Jason smiled a slow, hot, entirely masculine smile as he tilted his head so that their noses almost touched. "So it's fun you want?"

Elizabeth puzzled over his question, looking adorably befuddled, until she at last grasped his meaning and her eyes lit up once more. "Oh, _yes_."

He brushed his mouth against hers, still grinning, but amusement was soon forgotten when she hesitantly began to kiss him back. They had shared the occasional stolen kiss during their engagement period (during which Jason had made sure to increase his hours with the War Office so that he wouldn't be around Elizabeth as much and therefore, not nearly so tempted) but it was different now. This time, they both _knew_. They knew what it was, they knew what it meant, and they knew to where it would inexorably lead.

His hands traveled down from the small of her back to settle on her derriere, and Jason chuckled at her tiny squeal when he gave her a little squeeze. They pulled back for just a moment to catch their breath, and Elizabeth blinked expectantly up at him.

"What now?"

Jason ignored her and leaned back in, taking her lower lip into his mouth. Amusingly enough, he had thought to expect these interruptions and these questions when he imagined what it would be like to make love to Elizabeth. Elizabeth didn't accomplish anything without interruptions and questions, after all, so why should this be any different?

Dear God, he didn't even want to imagine what her child birthing experience would be like.

…Hopefully she wouldn't expect him to remain in the room during all that!

Knowing full well that he was getting ahead of himself, Jason pressed her closer to him and lost himself in the kiss. She still tasted of the lemonade she had at their midday wedding, and of the champagne they'd used for Robert and Gianni's toasts.

Elizabeth let out a breathless moan when Jason lifted one of his hands to her hair, deftly displacing the pins that held her dark curls in place. They fell to the carpet and her rich waves tumbled down freely. She stiffened slightly at that; after all, no one had seen her hair unpinned since she turned fourteen except for her father. But she recovered quickly and gripped the lapels of his handsomely tailored coat (black, no surprise) as Jason gathered her up in his arms. 

"Undo the buttons," he murmured against her swollen lips.

Elizabeth blinked in surprise, having not expected him to speak during…this. "What?"

"The buttons," he got out, "on my coat. Undo them."

Her eyes widened and fell to his chest. "Oh."

And then, without even stopping to think what he was asking of her, Elizabeth's fingers fell to the glistening buttons. They trembled slightly but she forced the combination of apprehension and excitement away and quickly slipped the buttons from their holes until his coat parted.

"Push it off," Jason murmured, gently raking his teeth over her earlobe now.

Elizabeth bit her lip in concentration – which had become a Herculean feat ever since he started doing those wicked things with his mouth – and gripped his lapels once more, this time using them to push the coat off his shoulders instead of to bring him closer.

It fell to the floor in a rumpled heap, but Jason didn't appear to care. "Take off your slippers," he ordered, using his gentle grip on her derriere to keep her from drawing too far back.

Elizabeth stepped out of her sky blue shoes (her entire outfit matched his eyes, per Lulu's most excellent suggestion) and swept them out of the way with her foot so that Jason wouldn't trip. He murmured his approval and kissed her again, distracting her so that he could slip his arms underneath her and lift her up.

She gripped his shoulders but didn't squeal, and he strode over to the bed and gently deposited her on it. He pulled back, breathing hard now, and hastily removed his boots and socks without breaking eye contact. She watched him, fascinated by his movements of disrobing, and let out an awed breath when he reached for her again.

He joined her on the bed and placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. Elizabeth held her breath, expecting him to lean down for another kiss, and her lashes fluttered when she felt his hot breath on her lips.

Jason's nose brushed against hers as he leaned in, but he didn't kiss her. Elizabeth's eyes shot open when she felt his fingers on her back, pulling each delicate blue button from its loop. She found Jason watching her, amusement swirling in his deep blue eyes, and gulped, trying to remember her bravado from earlier.

It was true that she was most excited about tonight, especially since everyone refused to tell her what would transpire (Robert had sent his housekeeper, her old governess, to give her an awkward talk about a man and his pleasures and a brief pain because he was too embarrassed to do it himself, and then he had locked himself in his office for the rest of the day) and only fueled her curiosity in doing so.

And it was true that she loved Jason, though they had never exchanged those words, and that she wanted to be his. She had been attracted to him even when they were just friends. After all, it was difficult not to notice just how attractive he was: just rugged and imperfect enough to be handsome instead of pretty. And she had most certainly been fantasizing about their wedding night since the day after their engagement when he'd grabbed her and kissed her in the hallway outside the parlor at Scorpio Estate.

But the way he was watching her, looking so perfectly sinister and loving and mischievous and handsome all at the same time, she couldn't help but forget all of her excitement and her eagerness and everything except the fact that his fingers were on her body and that he would be doing things to her, and that they would be joined forever this way and she'd never be the same again.

He brushed his lips over hers just before she thought she'd scream from the frustration of it all. "Nervous?"

Her fingers clenched the bedspread as he worked the last buttons, and Elizabeth shook her head. "N-No."

Jason knew she was lying but pretended not to be nearly so perceptive. "Good," he murmured, skimming his rough palm up her exposed back as the silk began to gently slide down her shoulders. "Because I promise you, there's nothing to be nervous about."

She let out a slow breath as the fabric slipped away and pooled at her waist, and Jason's hand at her back became one of support as he gently laid her down on his bed. "Hm?"

"Because the right man," he continued, looming over her like a feral cat as he brushed his mouth over hers again, repeating something he had overheard thanks to her and Lulu, "has a way of stealing away your fear and replacing it with something else."

He lifted his head and his eyes flashed with promise. "And I, Elizabeth Imogene Morgan, am the right man."

And then he kissed her fiercely, so fiercely that she had to twist the bed sheets in her grasp just to keep her head. His hands were under her, at her waist, gripping the azure silk, lifting her hips to pull it down and toss it away.

She let out a startled cluck, prompting Jason to lift his head and stare at her quizzically.

"What is it?"

"Lulu was right," she murmured, brushing away a thick lock of hair that fell in his face from their ardor. "It didn't take you long at all."

He gave her a sardonic look and lowered his head again, nipping at her neck. She squirmed underneath him, not liking the way her bare legs rasped up against his black breeches. The moan he elicited when he flicked his tongue into the hollow of her throat turned into a gasp when he eased his leg between hers. Since the cut of her dress hadn't allowed for a chemise, she was entirely naked underneath him while he was still fully clothed. It was mildly unnerving.

Elizabeth bit her lip and gripped his shoulders, twisting spirals into his white linen shirt. "Erm…J-Jason?"

He was panting now, but he did indeed hear her. Elizabeth wasn't altogether prepared for the change when he slipped his arm under her waist and displaced her, twisting so that he was on his back and resting against the pillows tossed by the headboard and she was sitting up close against his side.

He smiled when she blinked in surprise. "Better?"

Her hair slipped over her shoulders, a fact she was grateful for because now that she was on top, she had the added task of being self-conscious of her nakedness. "Er…yes?"

Jason gave her a gentle look and motioned her forward. "Come here."

Feeling rather stupidly like a child, Elizabeth crawled forward until she was sitting next to his stomach, giving Jason the opportunity to pull her in for a kiss. He settled her easily against him and kissed her soundly, letting her get used to the feel of her body flush up against his.

She seemed to enjoy the change in position – he always suspected she was a woman that would like being on top – and kissed him languidly, actually taking the time to revel in the coupling of their lips. And Jason wasn't even surprised when he felt her tongue flick hesitantly against the seam of his lips, cautiously seeking the entrance he was only too happy to grant.

She pulled back and gave him a smile of pure womanly seduction, the sort Jason surmised she had only just learned, and innocently brushed her lips to his. He started to respond when she pulled back, then leaned in and did it again.

"What shall I do with you, Jason?"

He could barely think straight with the infuriating caress of her mouth against his. "Hm?"

"You've been so good about giving me orders," she murmured, tracing the strong line of his jaw with the tip of her index fingers. "What shall I do to you next?"

Jason opened his mouth to reply, but not a sound came out for the longest, most embarrassing moment. "Uh…undo the buttons on my shirt."

Elizabeth flashed him a secret smile and turned her attention to his finely tailored white linen shirt. Jason sucked a breath in when she skimmed her fingers over the thin material, up and down, and then back again.

"Elizabeth, are you _trying _to-"

"Yes," she replied simply, braving a quick glance at him. He was not amused.

"Will you just-"

"Eventually," she shrugged, swirling her fingers in a lazy figure-eight over his chest. "What was it that you told me a man should do on his wedding night? Remember, that _one _time you discussed the subject with me during our engagement?"

Jason groaned when she skimmed her thumb over his aureole. "I don't remember."

Her lips curved. "Think harder."

He glared at her, tempted to grab her wrists and put an end to this, but she appeared to be having such fun that Jason couldn't bring himself to do it.

"You said," she supplied slowly, still teasing him as she fingered the top button, "that on his wedding night, a man should do his best to find out what pleases his wife. Don't you remember?"

She smiled again as she popped another button and slipped her fingers underneath, feeling the warmth of his skin. "I'm only trying to find what pleases _you_."

She had worked her way slowly down all the buttons, and Jason hastily sat up and yanked it over his head. Elizabeth's eyes widened and, placing one hand on his shoulder, she gently forced him back down again.

Jason watched her warily, wondering just what she was planning to do, and felt a shiver run up and down his spine when she gently traced his muscles with her fingers. Her touch was light and shy, and Jason had to fist his hands to keep from reaching out and hauling her to him.

"My breeches."

Her eyes shot to his, and her hand stilled over the delicate muscles of his stomach. "What?"

"My breeches," he rasped, unable to remove his eyes from hers. "Undo the buttons of my breeches."

Elizabeth glanced at his snug black breeches and nibbled her lip, looking as if she were deliberating over whether to follow his order or not. He caught the excited gleam that flickered in her eyes, and she must have decided to go ahead with it because she abandoned teasing his upper body and reached for the top snap of his pants.

She undid it easily but had trouble with the row of black buttons thanks to the bulge underneath that made the fabric fit even more snugly over his hips. She brought her hand back up to part the fabric, but found she wasn't quite ready to do that. So she didn't.

Jason understood her hesitance and took her hand in his, pulling it to his chest. He coaxed her closer, closer, until Elizabeth decided on her own that the best idea would be to crawl over him and effectively straddle him. This, of course, was exactly what Jason was hoping she'd do – without his suggestions or orders.

He placed a hand gently on her throat when she leaned down and pressed her mouth hard against his. Then slowly, so as not to scare her, he skimmed that hand down until he was lightly cupping her breast. Elizabeth mewed her approval, which in turn encouraged Jason to mold her to his palm and give her a firm squeeze.

Her breath was coming faster now and sounded shallow, and Jason kept up his ministrations. She was warm and soft in his hands, just as he had imagined she would be, and responded beautiful to his touches.

Jason's eyes fluttered half-open as he nipped her lower lip with his teeth. "Elizabeth?"

She had moved to his throat and was dropping hot, wet kisses along the sensitive skin there. "Mm?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Are you wet?"

Elizabeth lifted her head slowly, her confusion evident. "What?"

"Are you wet?" he repeated, knowing full well that she had no idea what he was talking about.

Indeed, she didn't, and Elizabeth's blue eyes darted around the room. "Erm…I don't understand the question. And I think it's highly irrelevant at a time like this."

Jason did his best not to burst out laughing in her face; somehow, he thought it might scar his poor wife for life if he did that. "Would you like me to find out?"

She stared at him with such perfect perplexion that he almost couldn't stand it. "…I suppose so, if you feel you must…"

He smirked and slipped his arm between them until his fingers were nestled between her legs, then swept one long finger all the way down her slick and swollen slit.

He grinned when Elizabeth's eyes bulged and she let out a little scream. "Jason!"

His grin only widened, and he repeated the motion for good measure. "Did you really think I wouldn't touch you like this?"

A brilliant blush crept up her neck, and Elizabeth actually lifted herself up off one of her hands and used that to swat his chest. "That was an awful thing to do."

His smug smirk fell right off his face. "…You didn't like it?"

She fixed him with a stern look. "It's not that – it didn't _feel _awful. Quite the opposite, really. But it was an awful thing to do because…because…because you can't _do _that, Jason!"

He let out a groan and wrapped his arm around her waist, effectively flipping them over so that he was pinning her into the mattress, her wrists captured above her head in his strong hand. Her mouth fell open with surprise, but Jason used that to his advantage and kissed her soundly, robbing her of breath and thought alike.

"I can do whatever I want to you, wife," he murmured, nuzzling her throat and flicking his tongue against her pulse point. "And you will like _all _of it, I promise you."

Her heart was racing, but she managed an impish grin that matched his playfulness. "I like it better on _top_."

Jason rolled his eyes but obliged anyway, rolling them over again so that she was on top of him and in the process letting her feel the power of his arousal right between her thighs. "Better?"

"Much," Elizabeth replied happily. "Now - don't you think you should…remove those?"

He shivered when she ran a hand high up the inside of his breech-clad thigh, and nodded jerkily. "Give me a minute…"

It took him far less than that to squirm out of them and toss them away, leaving him naked next to her. Elizabeth's eyes widened when she saw his manhood jerk forward, and her eyes remained trained there despite his attempt to catch her gaze.

"This is all so very strange," she heard herself murmur, and Elizabeth's cheeks blossomed a dull red when she realized that she had said that aloud instead of merely in her head. 

Jason stared at her, wondering just how many other husbands had to put up with their wives calling _that _strange.

"I can't for the life of me remember why I wanted to marry you so damned badly."

Her lips parted. "That's a horrible thing to say."

Jason placed a hand at the small of her back and pulled her forward with stunning urgency, pressing his mouth to hers and letting her taste his words. "But I will never forget that I love you more than anything in my life."

She gave him a slow, warm, dreamy smile that he hoped to see most often in the future. "That's a _lovely _thing to say."

He chuckled and rested his forehead to hers. "I knew you'd think so."

Elizabeth kissed him sweetly and moved awkwardly, trying to straddle him once more. She had to push him back onto the pillows to do so, but once he was situated she easily pushed herself off the bed and sat astride him.

"What now?"

Jason shot her a supercilious look. "You're the one who wanted to be on top – shouldn't you know?"

She wasn't amused. "If you were any sort of gentleman, you'd tell me."

His smile was perfectly smug, perfectly mocking, and perfectly masculine. "Don't you know by now? No man can remain a gentleman in bed."

"Clearly," she snorted, swiveling her hips just so to make him groan. This new feminine power of hers was something she had only just discovered and was only just beginning to use, and she was going to make the most of it. "Still, the fact remains. You've been giving me orders all this time – tell me what to do next."

"I can show you if-"

Elizabeth shook her head, her eyes glittering wickedly. "No, no, I'm not interested in that. Tell me exactly what to do, Jason. After all, you've had a chance to do this before. Many times," she added haughtily when he had the gall to frown at her.

"This is only my first time. Shouldn't I be allowed to do this my way?"

"No," he muttered tightly, easily capturing her wrists in his and throwing her off. She bounced harmlessly on the mattress for just a moment before he was on her, letting her feel his exquisite weight and letting her know beyond the shadow of a doubt that this was how they would do it.

"Maybe next time," he murmured when he saw the alarm in her eyes. "Next time. But not your first time."

"But isn't my first time about me?" she tried to joke, repeating something he had once told her that she hadn't quite understood at the time.

Jason gave her a small smile. "Not quite. It's about _me _making sure it's all about you."

"I'm not…sure I understand."

How he managed to be so gentle with her when he was hanging onto his control by mere threads was beyond him. "You will."

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her sweetly, but the kiss soon became hungry and needy. To her credit, Elizabeth tried to give as good as she received, and was only a little unnerved by the strength of his passion. She could never have imagined that any man would want her as badly as Jason did now. And if that insistent press against her thigh was any indication…

She groaned aloud and squirmed underneath him, not sure what she was so anxious or desperate for, but knowing that she yearned for something all the same. "Jason?"

"Easy," he murmured back. "Easy."

He touched her wickedly like he did before, right between her legs, and Elizabeth had to bite down on her lip to keep from screaming. That goal was abandoned, however, as soon as he slipped one finger slowly inside her, giving her all the time she needed to adjust around him before he wiggled that finger inside her, making her buck up off the bed.

Her frustration only made him laugh. It seemed that her helplessness and anxiousness amused him – no, delighted him. And just when Elizabeth was about to open her mouth and let him know exactly what she thought of that, Jason took both her hands in his, linked their fingers tightly together, and shifted just enough for her to feel something else at her entrance, something hot and hard and demanding.

Her lips parted on a silent breath, and Jason's deep eyes met hers directly, unflinchingly. He bit his own lip in concentration now, positioning himself correctly before he eased forward just enough for the very tip of him to enter her.

Elizabeth sucked in a breath, unused to and a little afraid of the feeling. He sensed her unease immediately and squeezed her hand, then inched forward just a little more. The smallest move sent ripples of fire through to every last inch of her, and Elizabeth wasn't sure she'd ever stop trembling.

"Please," he murmured in her ear, sounding quite unlike himself. "Please tell me you like this."

She tried to nod but wasn't positive that she had managed to pull it off. "I…it feels…don't move, Jason."

His body stiffened at her quiet plea, and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried to obey. She'd never taken a man before, and she was small enough as it was. Her body needed time to adjust to his, and he just prayed he could hold off until then.

After what seemed to him like an eternity, she finally squeezed his hands back. "Jason?"

He moved forward, just one more inch. "This may hurt, Elizabeth. It may hurt for a brief moment, but it will be the only time. And it hopefully won't hurt very much. Just relax, all right?"

She nodded even as she clenched her eyes shut. "All right."

Jason slipped in another inch and let out a short breath of air. "You're not relaxed."

Her lips pursed into a frown even though her eyes remained closed. "Yes, I am."

"No, you're _not_."

Elizabeth finally opened her eyes and had the nerve to look impatient with him. "Are you all of four years old again, Jason?"

"And are you honestly arguing with me at a time like this?" he shot back, nudging forward just a little more. She sucked in a quick breath, unprepared for the fiery sensations that erupted through her, and tried to glare.

It was only going to hurt more for her if she wasn't relaxed, but he couldn't very well let her know that. She was already nervous enough and something like that would only scare her more. If he wanted her relaxed, he'd have to take matters into his own hands.

…Perhaps literally.

Jason lifted himself off of her just a little, bracing his weight on one arm as he skimmed his other hand between them to where their bodies joined. Elizabeth shivered at the motion, then predictably squirmed to see just what he was up to.

"What do you think you're – Oh!"

He had found exactly what he was looking for, precisely in the cradle of her thighs. He rubbed her once, then again, his fingers moving easily at the part of her body that needed him most. Elizabeth threw her head to the side, her mouth open on a silent moan, then thrashed the other way. Jason kept it up, his touch gentle but insistent, awakening a fire that had been smoldering inside her all her life but awaited his stoking.

And then he pushed all the way forward.

Elizabeth stiffened, and her hips jerked against his just once. Jason had to close his eyes in order to not explode inside her at that moment, the one moment he'd waited so tortuously long for, and how he managed was nothing short of a miracle. He tried to form the words to ask if she was all right, but nothing short of a croak came out.

Elizabeth nodded impatiently, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze to let him know that she was fine. His hips had already begun to move in that ancient rhythm and urged hers along, and it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth picked it up. Jason slipped his hands underneath her, tilting her hips up and gritting his teeth through her moans.

She was the first one to attain release, screaming his name and fisting her hands in his bed cottons. Jason wasn't far behind, as his body had long since been begging for release. And as he neared completion, he reached out wildly and gripped her hand tightly in his, warmed when she squeezed right back.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_London, England, 1824…_

"I had no idea you knew how to cook."

Jason smiled and poured his wife a cup of tea. They were breaking a multitude of polite rules and eating breakfast in bed, but he supposed that it was all right. It was their first morning as husband and wife, after all. They had spent much of the preceding night rolling around in bed (he had assumed incorrectly that Elizabeth would be sore after their first time, but she soon proved to surpass even him in eagerness) and he had risen with the sun and an appetite.

With his small staff dismissed for the day, Jason padded into the kitchen on his own and prepared two plates of eggs, toast, bacon, and a little broiled mackerel for himself. When he sauntered back into the bedroom with the food and a fresh pot of tea, his wife was already sitting up in bed and looking around for him.

"It's not much," he replied modestly, dropping three lumps of sugar into her tea. Elizabeth waited until he wasn't looking before dropping in three more and stirring innocently. "I learned to cook after I left Quartermaine House and roomed here with Spinelli before he came into some money and moved out on his own. It was just the two of us, so we had to learn to cook for ourselves."

She spread jam on her toast and watched him out of the corner of her eye. "You've known these men for a long time, haven't you?"

"You mean Spinelli and Gianni?" He nodded when she looked at him expectantly. "Yes, them and John and Ritchie, as well. Ritchie worked for my father when I was still living at Quartermaine House, and he left when I did. Gianni and I met by accident and it was through him that I came to know his cousin Spinelli. I trust them completely."

She nodded. "And they are not…in trouble anymore?"

Jason had to smile at that. "They were under questioning at the time of my event, but were never charged. And we all have your father to thank for that."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up as they always did when Robert was mentioned. "Because of his friendship with the Prince. I knew no one would dream bother you or your friends after that connection became apparent."

He nodded, careful not to divulge Robert's secret. "Your father and the Prince arranged for John, Gianni, Spinelli, Ritchie and myself to be appointed members of the British War Office as part of a special task force. We may continue our work as we did before, but this time under the protection of the Crown."

His wife smiled, but the expression soon faltered, and she began to nibble her lip. "Jason?"

He popped a piece of mackerel into his mouth and glanced at her. "Yes?"

"Have you given any thought…" She wouldn't quite meet his eyes as she spoke, "…to whether or not you will continue in this…line of work?"

Jason frowned slightly. "Well, yes, I have. Of course I plan to continue it. Since we've started, we have successfully exposed no fewer than 37 officials that were working against Prince George. And with our added powers now, think of what we could do!"

But she didn't look quite willing to think that and instead nibbled on her lip some more. Jason watched her for a long moment, then reached out and freed her lip from her teeth.

"Do you not wish me to continue, Elizabeth?" he asked softly. "Is that what you're worried about?"

"It's not so much that," she replied. "Or maybe it is, I don't know."

He arched a brow, prompting her to roll her eyes.

"It's just that…it's very dangerous work, Jason. Father was telling me of the time that you and Gianni apprehended Baron Marcus Taggert in the act of conspiring with a French ambassador when you two infiltrated his home. Shots were fired, Jason, and you only barely escaped with your life."

"It wasn't that bad," he replied gruffly, settling back on the pillows next to her. "Taggert was a terrible shot – couldn't hit a bull's eye at ten pace."

"Jason, I…"

She shook her head and blinked quickly. "Never mind."

He reached out and took her hand, never knowing her to back down from expressing a sentiment of hers, no matter how unwelcome or unwarranted. "No, tell me."

"It's nothing," she tried to smile.

"It's not nothing," he disagreed firmly. "Not to me."

"It's just that…well, this line of work can make things difficult."

"Difficult?"

But now that she had gotten started, there wasn't any stopping her. Her thoughts came tumbling out quickly, one after another in rapid succession, and Jason couldn't even get a sound, much less a word, in.

"It's not so much me that I'm thinking about, but what would we do when we had children? It could be sooner rather than later, you know, or at least that's what Lulu told me. And if we had children, what would happen then? Would you still be swooping in through ceilings and breaking into covert meetings and charging about? And what if you made enemies? Oh, Jason, you must have a lot of enemies. Even I have enemies, and I don't even do anything to anyone. What if your enemies decided to make things difficult for us, and used the children to do it? And what would happen if you were injured? Or worse?"

He reached out, placed his fingers under her chin, and kissed her slowly. She protested at first, about to impart another horrible vision, then gave in to him. He kissed her soundly, reverently, just long enough to calm her racing nerves.

"I don't have all the answers to your questions, Elizabeth." His voice when he finally found it was rough and husky. "I wish I did, but I don't. All I know is that I want to live my life as an example to my children, the way my father should have lived his. I know that I want them to understand what conviction and loyalty are. And I know I would lay down my life to protect you and our children."

She let out a snuffled breath and rested her forehead against his. "But you've never worried about any of this?"

"Of course I have," he replied automatically. "I…When I realized I was falling in love with you, the first thing I told myself to keep myself away from you was that my life was too dangerous for you and for children."

"Good," she got out with a chuckle. "Because I would feel very silly if it was only me."

Jason shook his head and pulled her closer so that she was half-seated in his lap. "No, no, not only you. I worried, too, until that day when you announced on the docks that we were marrying. Then I realized that worrying wouldn't do any good because we _were _to marry, and I would have to find a way to make it all work."

She gazed up at him, still troubling her lower lip. "And have you found a way?"

Jason dropped a chaste kiss on her lips. "I'm not sure yet. But I do know that men just like me have made it work."

"Made what work?"

"Balancing a wife, a family, a home life, safety, and this line of work."

Her eyes lit up. "Really? Like who? Anyone we know?"

If he even so much as _hinted _that it was someone she knew, she'd never relent until he gave up Robert's name. And then Robert wouldn't relent until Jason was strung up by his thumbs, if for no other reason than that the Scorpio patriarch would then have to answer his daughter's countless questions about life as a spy.

"No one," he lied easily. "No one we know."

Elizabeth's eyes glittered shrewdly. "Then how do you know that this man made it work?"

"Uh…"

"Jason…"

His eyes darted nervously around the room. "It was a hypothetical situation, Elizabeth."

With the tray cleared away and sitting on the floor, his wife advanced on him, gently pushing his shoulders down onto the pillows. "You didn't make it _sound _hypothetical."

"It's a matter of national security!"

"Somehow, I don't think so," she grinned, straddling him easily on all fours. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Not."

"Are you sure that's a wise decision?"

"No – it's the bloodiest dumbest decision I've ever made, but there it is."

She pulled a face. "You're just like my father."

Despite the trouble he was in, Jason couldn't help but grin. "I can only hope so."


End file.
